


Withered Gardens

by Runa_Kamoran



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chara-Asriel Fusion, Female Chara (Undertale), Female Frisk (Undertale), Found Family, Frisk (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Magic Revealed, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Soul Magic, Translation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runa_Kamoran/pseuds/Runa_Kamoran
Summary: In search of a mysterious underground city, you wander in too deep, - into the mountain bowels, closed off with no way out. To your regret, the city in ruins was abandoned long ago. In its place now lays an old necropolis, overgrown and deserted. The caretaker of these Ruins is a terrible human-monster amalgamation that kills everyone in its way.Perhaps seeing the danger face to face, you can learn more.
Relationships: Chara/Asriel Dreemurr
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Pathfinder — I

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat of an experiment with style and more.  
> It'll contain many geological and archaeological terms, which I'll explain in the notes. Botanical designations, author's neologisms, feminitives and other language stuff are possible. As well as some mistakes, since I'm not a professional translator.  
> The number in the title of the chapter indicates the narrator:  
> I - Frisk  
> II - Chara

Your soul is nothing more than a smoldering ember inside a puny broken body that carries you down the wind of life. Somehow this fire was enough to push you one sharp and desperate step forward. You ran away from home. Who would've thought that you, a quiet little wimp, are capable of this.

You still don’t know if this is a success or yet another fuckup. You only know that uncle will beat you up so hard it will be good if you stay alive.

As a child you always wanted to become an archaeologist. Perhaps that's why, sensing the opportunity, you rushed off towards the adventures. Not that you left much behind, but to hell with it. Memories of the past shouldn't bother you much. Now, standing on a deserted road, you feel a glimpse of actual happiness for the first time in several years.

There's no one nearby, no one who could stop you, and this feeling of freedom is intoxicating. No humans, just the dense expanses of forest, the incisors of mountains under a sheet of fog and one old, lonely road. Once it connected this remote village with the rest of the world. The village is no longer, so the highway continues to crumble of low use. The cracks in asphalt surface have been overgrown with wild yellow flowers. No matter how many times humans try to capture nature in concrete, it will still find its way through.

And so are you.

Your beloved grandfather, peace be upon him, spoke a lot about this place. He once lived in this village and knew everything about a land filled with legends. He told you about the underground kingdom of monsters in the bowels of stone hidden there, somewhere in the valley. He also brought his findings - a carved purple stone, as if from a fortress wall, and a blue crystal that always glittered faintly in the dark. This, he said, is from the ruins of an old city under Mount Ebott - sometimes water brought the shards of its greatness to the surface.

Your grandpa died a long time ago, followed after by your mother, who left you alone to be torn by your relatives. You're not angry at him, not at all - but his stories have planted a seed of lively interest inside you for a long while.

And now here you are, and today you'll find out how right he was.

The crumbs of asphalt cheerfully crunch under your dirty boots, the wind invitingly blows in your back, rubs your hair like a mother's caring hand. A time-worn, faithful bag rubs your shoulder a little and hits your legs when you run. It contains everything you need: a little garden shovel, several brushes, a needle set, an album and pencils for sketches, replacement of clothes and some food. Yes, you're not a professional, and you don’t have many necessary tools, but any specialist in archaeology has to start from somewhere.

And of course, you didn’t forget your old grandpa's artifacts - the stone and the crystal, which are safely hidden in the pockets of jacket. For luck. Maybe today it will turn to you with something other than an ass.

The road runs away and hides in the mountains, leading you to the village site. Little is left of it; fire destroyed most of the houses. However, some of them survived - if you may say so about the old ruins overgrown with moss. This place fascinates you like nothing else, and for some time you walk aimlessly along broken paths. Scattered debris, weed-covered gardens, collapsed fences, sad houses with no windows. Such is it, the departure of man and the triumph of mother nature, slowly taking back her land.

Now this is an ordinary waste-ground, the dump of abandoned half-burned trash, used by the dregs of society to gather. The most suitable place for you.

Once upon a time there was a fire, that took many good people with it. Everything happened late at night, and village residents didn't sound the alarm immediately. Grandpa, still a youngster back then, was one of the first who rushed to help - but it wasn't simple to stop the raging flames. When you asked why this happened, he said, "The Queen of Monsters came here."

Of course, it was the legends of monsters living in these mountains that fascinated you as a child. After all, it was they who owned the fabulous underground city, it was they who reigned in this valley and in these forests. Grandpa said that the villagers angered their queen, for which she drove them from her land.

Of course, you didn't believe him and so decided to dig deeper in the local library. The legend of monsters was just a legend, but you managed to figure out where it comes from. It was rumored that a very long time ago, the Gauls inhabited this valley. The arrival of warlike Caesar disturbed the peace of these lands, and in order to escape from Roman troops, resourceful Celts dug many tunnels deep down the mountain and built their oppidum there. You retold all this with great enthusiasm to your grandfather, who smirked and replied: “Were those Gauls, or Romans, or monsters, who can say now.”

But now you are here to find out the truth by yourself. Of course, you're a little dumbass with crooked hands, but you're not so dumb to believe in monsters, and not so crooked to ruin a childhood dream. You aren't sure for the latter, however. But you were sure that if underground city really existed, you'll definitely find it. At least a little that left of it.

Ruins captivated you, forced you to forget about hatred in heart. This happens rarely in fact, so you come to your first excavations with all the love and care. It’s not that you really hope to find something useful here, but it'll do for a start.

Burnt balks are cowered with ash and dust, small pebbles and fragments crunch underfoot. The charred furniture, overgrown with moss, the remains of wooden walls under a blanket of mold, bursted windows with dirty fangs of glass. Desolation pleases you so much that you don't even pay attention to all the mud and selflessly delve into the garbage. Your aunt would've flogged you for that.

Well, what else can you do. A man born in a garbage dump has no place in a rich house. Your aunt knocked this very thought into you on the first day of your appearance on her doorstep.

Like a restless ghost of the past, you wander among the ashes, examine the collapsed bones of houses, sometimes rummage through the remains of foundation, hoping to find something other than broken bottles and cigarette packs. Time flies swiftly and quietly. You realize this only when you cannot make out the village in the thickening gray mist.

It's a bit scary. Good girls don't go out alone at night. Otherwise, they themselves are to blame if something bad happens to them. And it will definitely happen - your ass has a habit of finding trouble even where there weren't any.

But so far, everything is quiet. You don't trust your feelings, they let you down too often, so you look around, then hide in the nearest house. The roof half collapsed inward, but the stone building withstood the onslaught of fire. At least smoke-blackened walls will protect against wind and cold. In addition, you have to spend here only one night. Clearing a place in the corner for yourself, you spread your jacket on the ground and curl up among the garbage.

This is your home and your life from now. Pathetic as it is, it still brings you warming peace of mind. It doesn't last long - obsessive, frightened questions fill the head. How long will it take before the police find you and push you back into the golden cage? Uncle and aunt will smile and tell how they were afraid for you, how they love and definitely care for you. And you'll smile with them and say how you love them. The police will believe and leave, because your uncle offered them a fat bribe. And the vicious circlet you broke with such difficulty will close around your neck again.

Indiscriminate, dull thoughts put you to sleep, but complete oblivion doesn't come - lying on the bare floor is too unusual and uncomfortable. Through your nervous half-nap you hear the noise of rare cars, you feel the chill of the wind, which hisses among the leaves and dust on the floor. For a second it's replaced by a warm breeze that caresses your face and brings the alluring smell of chocolate. So nice as if...

Someone is breathing in your face, and you jump from the bedding in horror. Circles and shadows flicker before your eyes, but when they disperse, no one is in the ruins of the house. Calming down a little, you lie down again, using your elbow as a pillow - and fall into the restless sleep.

This time it was interrupted by voices.

Voices, muffled, mumbled, messy like your thoughts, are slowly approaching, getting louder. This time you don't just get up - you take off from your bedding, grabbing a bag with a jacket and run out of the hole in the doorway. The mix of male voices wheezed, grunted and laughed, grew, approaching. Your panic has also grew stronger.

You didn’t come here to meet strangers, but it can be difficult to hide from humans. And, recalling the words of your aunt, you know that strangers in dark abandoned places are rarely friendly. And yes, you know what such strangers do with the stray little girls. You're already twelve, and you know where children come from.

You find your refuge in the garden behind an old wooden fence. Tall grass and darkness hide you reliably, and the road is clearly visible from under the cracks between the boards. Here's the company - two guys, already tipsy, are exchanging jokes mixed with obscenities, then decide to look into the house where you were hiding. And if you came with a truly noble purpose, then these guys, judging by the conversations, are here to party and loot.

There's no desire to intersect with the tramps. After waiting until they hide in the ruins, you run out of cover and rush to the forest. The scums won't go there, there's nothing for them to do, so the thicket seems to be the safest option. However, this time you are quickened by quickness. One of them saw you running away, and soon the whole company, like hounds released after a hare, runs on your tail. Without even looking back, you understand this by the laughter and hooting from behind.

Well, of course, what were you thinking? That your determination and risk will change live for the better? It's ridiculous! You are the embodiment of failure created by a series of disasters. Some random fuckup that bothers people with her existence. But now they don’t need to worry. Now you will be torn apart by hyenas in human form, forever erasing this error from the face of the earth. Death doesn't scare you to be honest - you only fear the pain. You had more than enough of it in your life.

The silhouettes of the trees are washed off into a single black mass, that rustles, crunches underfoot, clutches at your jacket with long branches-claws. A mountain pierces the top of gray disk of the moon - the only light that leads you through thickets, pits and hills.

Someone grabs you by the sleeve, a sharp jerk - and here you are on the ground, in the midst of dry foliage. You don't understand what you're doing, the body moves as if by itself, and you yourself observe it from above, far from pain, far from fear. The puppet twitches, screams and bites, scratches the hands reaching to it. The head is blissfully empty. Feelings are left behind, in a world of crumpled grass, panic and unwanted touches.

The lunar disk hid behind the shadow for a moment. A rustle, a jerk - and shadow disappeared, a hoarse, frightened scream echoed in the forest. The hands holding your body are unclenched. As if in the moment of insight, you come back - and, hitting the man nearby with an elbow, you flee, grabbing your bag on the run.

It doesn't matter what or who is chasing you. All that matters is a narrow strip of mountain trail, so emerged from the forest, as if inviting you to go this way. Running along stony, but flat ground is easier - or maybe you just grew wings that carry you to the top of Ebott, to the land of moon and clouds.

The man catches up with you again, screams something, drags you after himself, but you don't listen. You fight back, bite him like a cornered puppy. He hits you, threatens - then you notice the gun in his hand. Your hassle stops by itself - when the shadow covers you both again.

"Stevie? Hey Steve, is that you?", the guy screams into the void. His hands tremble and loosen his grip, allowing you to break free. But you don't have time to escape.

The fickle light of the moon outlined it. Just an uneven silhouette, but it seems to be an illusion - because there's hardly anything human in it.

Tall, above the tops of trees, with a crown of horns, an ominous snow-white grin and glowing red eyes, the demon that comes when people call for help. Their pleadings were heard.

Raising its hand, the creature throws something under your feet. You recoil in horror and fall on the stones. The guy screams. Stevie looks at you with glassy eyes, it seems, not even having time to understand who tore his throat at the last moment. A vicious laugh echoes above you.

Screaming in rage, the young racketeer shoots, exploding the silence of valley with a roar of shots. The creature answers him with a growl, annoyed and hoarse. For a second, the shadow breaks away, then covered the guy underneath it. You don't look at the massacre. You run along the path, barely touching the ground.

You have a small head start, and you'll use it wisely.

Heartbreaking screams chase you on the heels, pushing you like a whip. A small shrubs, stones and trees flicker before your eyes, a bag frantically clapping on your hips. The only weapon it contains is a garden shovel, so your legs are the only hope. The black mouth of the cave grows in front of you, and you rush into the darkness without hesitation.

The screams finally subsided. Your time is up.

It's too dark here, so you have to run blindly with arms outstretched. They save your pretty face from colliding with the ground when you stumble on a stone. Palms torn to blood don't bother you too much - you're driven by the embittered hiss of the creature that discovered your escape.

It's near. Claws creak on a stone. Growling behind. Is that how it end? Well, apparently, that's the best death you could dream of. You always believed in the existence of strange, amazing and horrifying creatures that inhabit forgotten corners of the planet - and now, your dreams turned out to be true! Now one of these monsters will tear you apart.

Anyway, it's better than being raped and murdered by a couple of stranger guys. Or to bleed in the bathroom, listening the fierce screams of your adoptive parents.

The cave opened suddenly, taking you to an open, grassy slope. The hard rock under your feet gave way to soft soil. Mountain peaks grew around, and before you stood the slope of Mount Ebott - the largest and most magnificent of all. The moon seemed even closer and larger from that height, a tired gray eye on a black canvas.

A gorgeous place to die.

You turned around sharply, your feet tied in soft ground. What followed you crawled out of the cave, then stretched out in all its impressive height. It stood on a rock, frightening and majestic, as if allowing you to examine and admire it. An elegant, humanoid monster with long clawed limbs, thin curved horns and a long tail with a tassel. A face with animal features framed by a mane of auburn hair. Flattened cat nose, narrow lips with thin fangs bulging under. Purple robes and snow-white fur are smeared with blood in some places.

At that moment, all your fear, doubts and despair evaporated as if by magic. Everything burned in the fire of unquenchable delight that consumed you all. You couldn't name this strange monster-half-human-half-lion, but it was unusual. Wonderful. Out of this world.

Or maybe you just read too many myths and legends. Another wouldn't share your admiration, especially at such a moment. The monster carefully stepped forward, leaned over, and your ecstatic numbness faded.

Screaming, you jumped back. Your legs tangled in prickly vines, you twitched, trying to stay in place - and the soil fell under you, swallowing you up to waist. Your fingers frantically clutched at the grass and stems, the soil crumbled under them. Like a swamp that draws deeper, but not into the water - into the void. Only now did you understand why the earth was so soft. Time and rains eroded it, drained the hard rock, and under it... under it, there was nothing.

The last barrier crumbled beneath your trembling palms, and, along with clods of dirt, you flew down into the mouth of the mountain. The monster screamed after you, furiously.

  
***

Waking up was painful. Sorely painful.

At first you, with usual doom, took everything for an ordinary dream. One of the nightmares that come after your uncle teaches you another lesson. The proof was your exhausted, beaten up body that hurt even where it couldn't hurt.

But there was no soft mattress beneath you, and neither an alarm clock nor aunt's grunts were heard. A cold draft blew into your face, and red-gold rays of dawn pinched in your eyes. In your nose stuck the smell of morning dew, moist soil and dust, the throat was full of sour bile and bitter blood. When you groan, you try to turn to the other side. It immediately answers with a sharp pain. Something crunches and makes noise beneath you.

So you're not at home, and this wasn't a dream. For some reason, that thought brings you strange relief.

For a moment you expect to see the white ceiling above you - but, opening your eyes, you meet the morning sun. Your desperate attempts to prevent your fall left a hole in the ground, rays of light coming through it. And you're not lying in bed, but on a cover of moss, flowers and small bushes crumpled under your weight. You were lucky that the soil was soft and the fall was short-lived. Otherwise, you probably would've broken your spine or neck.

You turn to face the sun and laugh, it seems, for the first time in years. Despite all the setbacks and dangers that haunted you tonight... you stayed alive. Yes, you're covered in mud and foliage from head to toe, you're alone, lost and beaten, but yet alive. Unlike Stevie and his friend back there. Maybe Lady Fortuna, who's been diligently ignoring your existence in recent years, suddenly decided to turn to you you and fill in good luck.

And also... you saw a monster on a rock. Your brain still couldn't recognize and accept this fact. The image of a monster was imprinted in your memory like a picture in a book, but the event itself seemed too unbelievable, too unrealistic. Old grandpa always fed you tales, and the tale of ancient Queen of Monsters that lives underground was one of your favorites. How many years have passed, and you can still remember his every word.

But did you think you'd really meet her? Not at all. You were attracted by the city under the mountain, which was built by the ancient Celts very, very many years ago. You studied local history and legends, you knew this may be true and you came to find the underground oppidum*... but to meet a mythical monster in it? That's a find above all expectations.

Resting a little, you lift your unfortunate body on your feet. Everything hurts, everything, but it's not new to you. You can handle it. The contents of your bag are scattered across the grass, and you collected everything that could be collected not without difficulty. Anyway, you didn’t take anything fragile or valuable in it.

You looked at the rising sun for the last time and went into the darkness.

The cave narrowed, but then brought you into a spacious underground hall. Something flashed for a moment, burned your eyes with light, and you squinted at habit. Opening them again, you gasped and almost forgot how to breathe. In front of you stood carved stone braziers, lit by itself. They brought light into a wide cave.

Instead of raw rock, a flat masonry appeared before your eyes - battered by time, but still strong, like centuries ago. The fortress wall that able to withstand the onslaught of any weapon, it didn't give up even under the blows of stones and water. With your head up, you could see a wall-walk* protected by stone blocks and small guard towers with embrasure eyes. The wall covered the entire space of cave - in order to get around it, it'd take a mountain to explode.

Fortunately for you, the fortress didn't know siege for a long time, and its gates stood open. Or, rather, lay open - a tree, albeit solid, succumbed to the influence of nature and time. One giant gate leaf lay half scattered in the ground. The other leaned sadly against the masonry, still hanging on one rusty loop. There was some kind of symbol with wings depicted on them, similar to a coat of arms. The passageway was surrounded by a purple arch decorated with carvings. A stone of same material and color is securely hidden in your pocket.

So, not only monsters were true.

Remembering your all-knowing grandfather with kind words, you sighed, breathed out again - and rushed on trembling legs to meet the unknown. You wanted adventures and excavations, new and great - and fate finally gave you a chance.

In the end, you always knew that you'd find your way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oppidum - a Celtic fortified city of the II–I centuries BC., which had stone walls and a rectangular layout.  
> Wall-walk (also "chemin de ronde") - the upper part of the fortress wall, protected by a parapet in front, and used for safe movement of soldiers and as the location of fortress artillery.


	2. Ancient Presence — I

Numerous braziers flashed and went out before you , illuminating your path through many underground halls and corridors, sometimes narrow and twisted. It's understandable - if the enemy gets beyond the fortress wall, it won't be easy for them to fight here. The damp cave walls were paved with the same purple stone, unpretentious spiked vines covered them in places. Small dry trees were growing along the path, covering the caves with their dry red foliage. The air was filled with damp and dust. Trying not to get lost in the labyrinth of underground passages, you walked the most noticeable straight road. It branched out quite often, led away in different directions. Despite your natural curiosity, you never turned from your way. One monster was enough for you.

A beautiful carved, albeit time-worn staircase has led you to another gate. This time doors stood closed and the emblem on them was clearly visible - a circle with wings with a series of serrated triangles. Maybe this is some kind of symbol of the Gaul tribe? It's not too usual for the coat of arms. Humans preferred to place something majestic or menacing on their banners - like, lions, eagles or dragons. This sign rather resembled an angel flying above a string of mountains.

Nearby was a strange push mechanism and a stone plate. Deep claw marks were on it, as if someone had erased the writing in rage.

The gates creaked open as if someone had already opened them not too long ago. Overcoming another dark corridor and making your way through the thickets of semi-dry plants, you barely had time to stop - and not to fall into the abyss that suddenly opened before you. You should've definitely expected this. After all, you are in a fortress, - and not a single fortress is completely protected without a moat.

Someone changed the flow of underground river, led it through this cave, and then broke its banks, turning them into steep cliffs. Water eroded them, making the channel into a smooth stone hollow. Anyone who fell into a moat was doomed to wallow in icy water to death, hopelessly clutching at slippery stones. In addition, historical books told you that builders oftenly placed spikes and stakes at the bottom. Yet another reason not to get into the water.

The moat was a death trap, and there was only one way through - the thin strip of the bridge that ran forward and lost in the dark. A very narrow and incredibly slippery path made in order to have one person walking along it at a time. The army would've line up in order to cross such a bridge - and many would stumble and fall in the hungry mouth of the moat. But now there's no danger, so going to the other side should be easy... right? You stepped forward, moving slowly and carefully. Knees were shaking despite your attempts to stay calm.

Walking across the bridge isn't difficult, it’s difficult not to look down.

Along the stone path stood small pillars with turrets and lanterns. When you passed by, a bright blue light lit up in them and immediately died out when you left. You wondered who may be lighting these braziers anyway? And does anyone else live in ruins you dare to trespass?

As if hearing your thoughts, something fluttered out of the darkness. A lantern flashed before you, a scream and a desperate cry broke the silense. You recoiled from surprise, going back from the small figure in front of you. A creature resembling a large moth floated in front of you, trembling and sobbing. Stiffened in place by shock you were feverishly trying to understand what was going on. Another monster? You would call it an elf or a fae, even if it didn't look like those pictures in books. However, you just learned about the existence of monsters - how can you judge them?

Decided, you took the first step, gently waved your hand and tried to cheer up the strange monster. But in the middle of the phrase, the crying creature burst into tears even more, waved its thin arms. White sparks scattered in the air, and a swarm of white butterflies surrounded you. Fascinated, you tried to touch them, but immediately pulled off your palm.

Ouch! Why the hell are the butterflies biting?!

The swarm clung to you, and each touch of the snow-white wings pierced your skin with stabbing pain. As if those weren't moths, but wasps circled around you. Squealing and waving your hands, you stepped back, trying to drive the insects away. A shoe slipped over the edge - and then you remembered you were on a dangerous narrow bridge. The earth has gone under your feet before you had time to understand anything. The blue light went out, the world around you disappeared in the icy darkness. Then - a sharp, piercing pain in the chest and water, spreading with scarlet spots.

You were right about something. There really were spikes at the bottom of the moat.

***

Waking up was painful. Sorely painful.

Not that you were scared of that state. Bruises and abrasions have long been a part of your body, these blue and red spots, soaked into the skin, indelible kisses of love. The problem was an unexpected migraine that crumbled your skull like a nutcracker. You tried to get up, but abandoned the attempt shortly. The piercing golden rays of dawn pierced the eyes like needles, the pain shook the body again.

Well, you're not in a hurry. You can wallow in mud for a while.

Maybe that headache was your brain's attempt to understand what was happening. You didn't succeed. Because, opening your eyes and finding yourself in already familiar meadow of crushed flowers, you fell back to the ground in confusion. Sure thing, the feeling of déjà vu is familiar to you - but it's just way too... too real. You'd take this for another strange dream if your body didn't ache at the slightest movement. With grunts and an effort of will, you got up on your feet. You collected the scattered things in a shabby bag, as if repeating your vision. Then headed into the mouth of cave to see the familiar fortress walls and ruined gates. Labyrinths of underground passages in the uneven light of braziers, purple stones and dead plants. Everything was repeating before your eyes. As if the dark world of caves had devoured you already and made your restless ghost haunt the stone halls again and again.

You were interrupted from troubling thoughts by the crevice ahead. The dark strip of bridge leading into the darkness, the transparent-bright eyes of lanterns. If all this wasn't a vision designed to warn you, then what?

Walking over the bridge a second time isn't so scary. Carefully holding on the lampposts, going slowly, eyes looking forward. Then you are the first to notice the winged fairy on the bridge - it sits on one of the lanterns. Determingly, you're taking the first step.

"Hello!"

The monster takes off like a frightened bird, and nervously, shortly squeaks. You smile amiably and continue, trying to sound relaxed and friendly: "Um... I'm sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. Are you okay? What's your..."

The moth burst into sobs and flew away, dropping tears and screaming.

...well, that's a completely normal reaction to your appearance. There's nothing to be offended. Your cousin is greeting you like that. Unless instead of crying, she would rather spit in your face.

With a bitter sediment in the soul, you continue your journey. Maybe someday you can make friends with a mythical creature. Just not this time. How funny. You came here in search of scientific discoveries, and instead met revived tales and legends you loved, but never believed. Whar an irony! However, you once thought that you'd live in a normal family, and look how it turned out. Your whole life is a fucking ambiguous joke.

The bridge leads you to new gates, much larger and wider than the previous ones, a massive hole in the equally massive fortress wall. The steel grill is raised, menacingly peaking in gloom. Quickly passing through it - God forbid, it will fall on your head - you find yourself in the courtyard. The fortress, most of the times, has three lines of defense. You've already passed two, which means the center is not too far away.

What will you find in the heart of this ancient fortress, never build and inhabited by humans? Your mind has given you many possible answers. Ancient libraries and knowledge of the times when humanity wasn't existing; masterpieces of art unlike anything in the world; maybe priceless treasures of the depths, mountains of gold and precious gems? Nothing in your life sounded so tempting. When you were daydreaming, you didn’t notice how numerous underground corridors fly in front of you.

You were dragged out of air castles very unceremoniously. You stumbled. And when you returned to your feet and looked around, realized you had tripped over a pile of bones. Human bones.

...oh shit. You completely forgot about one small detail. About one not really small monster who killed two people before your eyes, and who quite obviously lives in these ruins.

The blackened skeleton collapsed at the column, covered in moss and soot. The bones scattered across the floor because of your clumsiness. Only the largest ones have left, including the skull. Old and charred, with a broken jaw, it was lying in the corner and looked sadly at you with its eye sockets. Uncertainly, you knelt down to take a closer look. Bones are one of the objects of archaeological studies, but not something what you wanted to find. You didn’t want to pick it up either. And you didn’t need to - it’s quite obvious that this man was burned alive. If there are fairies, maybe there are dragons here, too?

...that's not something you should care about right now.

In fact, the sight of charred remains didn't scare you. It was even interesting to look at real bones so close. But part of you asked for some action. Finding out who this person was won't work - all things and clothes have been burned with him. There's no way to bury the dead properly either. There is no time for this.

Cautious, you turned to make sure nobody is around. Sighing quietly, you got to your feet. The alien look on your shoulders seemed almost tangibly heavy - but the only one who looked in your back was a lone skull.

The cave led you further, past the fortifications and menacing dark corridors, then expanded, moving into a spacious hall. You didn't hold back the admiring gasp. Here, apparently, was an unner courtyard. Overgrown and long forgotten, it still looked impressive. Carved marble columns interspersed with shining braziers and tall trees. Foliage flew off them, covering the cobbled floor like a red veil. In the twilight were low half-dugouts with sloping roofs - they were cut into the rock and stuck out from under the trees, like strange stone mushrooms covered in leaves. Usually, servants or animals lived in the yard, but you can't know for sure in this place. Maybe the buildings are abandoned now. Or maybe those are fairy houses?

The underground hall led in two directions. To your left was another arch, and to your right was a stone-lined path that hid somewhere deep in the cave. You turned in an arch and grunted knowingly. Right what you need.

No fortress can survive without a source of water, so humans dug deep wells inside them. But this fortress was already located underground, and therefore the well was peculiar. Part of the wall remained unpaved, a small hole gaped in it. And between raw stones and stalagmites flowed a clean mountain spring. It went down in a waterfall into the prepared gravel runoff, and again escaped into the underground depths. Nearby were iron buckets and basins, small stone bowls and vases. The pebble path was well-trodden. Somehow the cave was overgrown with moss and creeping plants. You couldn't explain how greens and even trees can grow so deep underground. However, this is not the only thing you couldn't explain, so you just accepted it as part of a strange underground world.

The water in the spring was icy, pleasantly chilling your hands and throat. You lingered here, took off your sweater, filled the basin with water and washed yourself for a long time, peeling off a layer of dried mud from your skin. The bandage on your right hand loosened and unwound, so you took it off. The cuts beneath it were already covered in unpleasant crust. Gently lowering your hand into the basin, you cleaned the wounds until they opened again. The clear water became nasty brown. Then you began to bandage the elbow again. Doing it with one hand is terribly inconvenient, so you had to sit on the ground and lean on the basin. The bandage wasn't tightened enough, its edge was sticking out all the time. You swore in anger.

Instead of ending your life, you just made it worse. As always.

The wounds under the bandage nagged unpleasantly, as if a flock of ants ran across your arm. You once again bent to the basin to wash your face. Bright spots of blood blurred in the water. The second of bewilderment gave way to horror, and you turned around, so abruptly, that the steel washbowl turned over, splashing water. The eyes that burned your back were lost with it. No one was there. The caves were quiet and deserted.

Looking around nervously and trembling, you tiptoed into the courtyard and proceeded along the path. Is there anyone close by, or are you seeing things again? You wouldn't be surprised if monsters or someone else lived in the dugouts standing nearby. Of all the nooks you managed to see, this one looked like the most inhabited. But the caves were still uncertainly quiet as if all their inhabitants hid like mice, afraid of you coming.

Or... they weren't afraid of you.

Dry leaves crunched underfoot, piercingly loud in suffocating silence. It seems that eyes flashed in the little dugouts, but they immediately disappeared as soon as you looked after. The feeling of someone else's presence was never leaving you - even when you looked around once again and saw that there was no one nearby. Tired of the unknown fear, you shouted into the void:

“I know you're here! So come out and show yourself!"

The scream echoed through the cave and fell silent, leaving you in silence. You gave out a sigh of relief. Loneliness brought peace. But not for long.

"Is that so?" A malicious snicker breathed in the back of your head. "Well, if you insist..."

The leaves crunched, the fabric rustled. Uneven light from the fire was closed by a shadow. Your shoes stick to the floor and legs went numb. Your heart was stuck somewhere in the throat, a throbbing, suffocating lump of anxiety.

Looks like you just made the second most stupid thing in your life. The first was your birth.

Someone's hot breath burned your neck from behind, brought the pungent smell of smoke and subtle - of chocolate. You couldn't turn around. You couldn't move at all. Paralyzing horror whispered into your subconscious mind - make another movement, and your puny fragile body will be torn to pieces faster than a meat scrap in a piranha aquarium. Someone was behind, and it grunted knowingly. Time passed painfully slow, while you doomedly waited for death. You waited for it to rush at you, to covered you under it and open you up, easily and ruthlessly tearing the last vestiges of life out with its claws. But even after a damn long seconds death didn’t come, and finally, understanding has penetrated your head. It doesn't want to kill you just yet.

It wants you to turn around.

And so you did.

Bloodshot, filled with cruel mockery, the monster's eyes glared at you. The mouth curved in a malicious smile, rows of wolf fangs peered out from under the lips. You couldn't take your eyes off her strange, half-human face that seemed frightening, but unnaturally attractive. Sharp, angular features, with a coat of short white fur, a flattened cat's nose - somehow she resembled an eerie and mysterious Sphinx. Her short brown hair has fallen into a natural disarray, like a lion's mane with pointed, furry ears sticking out. Only the majestic, bent back horns were standing out of this picture.

The monster leaned her head, looking at you as closely as you did to her.

“I thought you died from your fall... but humans are such tenacious creatures, right?” The voice, obviously female, would've seemed melodic if it hadn't been filled with poison. You didn’t answer - you really tried to unfasten your tongue from the palate.

Somehow you managed to take your eyes off her face and examine the rest. She sat down on one knee, leaning toward you. Amazingly how she managed to follow you so silently and imperceptibly. Her hand - or paw? - was lying on the other knee, and you could perfectly see the fingertips with outstretched claws. The same symbol was embroidered on her purple robe - an angel flying up. Two pendants hung from her neck - one is red and heart-shaped, the other is white, another heart, but upside down. Your brain slowly resumed its work and noticed another important detail. Royal people usually wear beautiful golden crowns on their heads. The monster didn't have it. Gathering your guts, you swallowed and squeezed out of yourself:

“Are you... The Queen of Monsters?”

Scarlet eyes narrowed into dangerous splits. The corners of her lips rose, showing fangs clearly. An irritated growl came from her mouth. She doesn’t seem to like your question, and it looks like your miserable existence is over.

But instead of killing you on the spot, the monster leaned closer. Her gaze burned through your soul.

“The Queen of Monsters,” she hissed slowly, “was slayed by one of your kind.”

Her words made you startle. From the moment you stepped onto this strange land, your grandfather's tales seemed like common truth to you. However, the story was more complicated than you thought.

“Then... who are you?” You muttered embarrassedly through your dry lips.

She rose to her feet, straightened, hung over you like a giant shadow. Her voice seemed to be divided in two, sounded like polyphonic echo in the quiet halls: 

_"We_... I am Chariel Dreemurr, Her fallen Highness, Princess in Exile, Duchess of the Old Home and the Caretaker of the Ruins. This fortress is my home and my possession. And by my decree no human is allowed to step on this land!"

The roar of her words made you stagger. In growing fear, you slowly stepped back - even if you understood that this time you won’t run away. A blinding white light flashed in the monster's hand, as if she had pulled lightning from thin air. After a moment, the light took form of a sparkling curved blade.

“And for this insolence... you'll pay with your life.”

At that moment, you didn’t think too much why, - you just ran, not picking the road. Your battered, exhausted body burned with adrenaline, your legs carried you forward, barely touching the ground. There was no pain, fatigue or doubt - nothing but an unbearable will to live. This determined desire burned in you as ardently as never before. You found your reason to stay in this world and didn't want to leave it now.

The thirst for life burned in you even when your chest exploded in a fountain of blood, even when a sparkling blade passed through the body, cutting it into uneven halves.

***

Waking up was painful. But not as painful as the first time.

Turning away from the sun pinching your eyes, you lay on your side and moaned weakly from back pain. The head thundered, flower pollen tickled the nostrils. Somewhere far away, as if in another world, the twittering birds met the dawn. You lay in the grass for a long time, listening to the world around you. You hope when you open your eyes you will see something different. But you were wrong again. Nothing has changed. Feeling nothing but fatigue, you closed your eyes again, rolled comfortably on the crumpled grass, collecting scraps of knowledge in your head.

The Celts believed that gods and monsters lived in Sidhe, Another World beyond this reality. After their defeat Tuatha De Danann descended there - to the underground, into the depths of hills and mountains. In an underground country without sorrow and death, where time has no power, where ancient magic still lives.

Suddenly, all the legends on the pages of library books made sense.

Birds sang over you and the sun rose. Another world lived above you, a world you had no place in. Maybe this is your new chance. Or maybe it's a cruel joke of fate that threw you to a foreign land, which wasn't going accept you. And, judging by Chariel, not everything here is so blissful and cloudless, as in fairy tales. You lay in the grass for a long time, pondering, deciding to take another desperate step. You got up again, packed your stuff. Repetition intimidated you no longer. Does this little inconvenience matter when you just escaped death itself?

You dug a handful of earth with small garden shovel - you already knew that it will be useful to you.The most difficult thing remains - to convince the ruler of the Lower World to let you in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuatha De Danann (The Folk of Goddess Danu, Tuath De, Sith) - the fourth of the mythical tribes that ruled Ireland, the gods or demigods in Celtic mythology. They were defeated by the Sons of Mil Espaine (humans) and went into the underworld.  
> Sidhe (Sith, Aos si) - the otherworld inhabited by the Tuath De. This is also the name of the hills, since it was believed the passage in this world was hidden in them.


	3. Bitter Malice — II

The worst situations tend to happen in the most beautiful days, and the feeling of impending disaster didn't quite leave you this morning.

While returning from an evening hunt, you, as expected, circumvented your possessions. Your daily routine, as well as the indispensable duty of every ruler. Of course, inspecting the desolate lands in search of rare lost souls isn't the most interesting concern, you’re just tired of the monotonous look of your own home. Simply put, you did this because of pure, suffocating boredom, which periodically forced you to do at least something.

After all, you did a lot to drive unwanted guests away from the valley. Legends of mountain monsters, people missing, a village burned to the ground and many victims - usually this was enough to discourage most superstitious inhabitants. But at times there were all kinds of passers-by who enraged you with their presence - tourists, petty punks, poachers and just lost mushroom pickers. This is your land, and everything on it belongs to you and no one else.

And nothing, not even boredom, infuriated you more then these ubiquitous little humans disturbing the peace of your evening walk.

Calmly and swiftly flickering through the trees like an inaudible shadow, you enjoy the rustle of the wind in the hem of your robe, the sweet and tart smell of fresh foliage, the warm rays of the sun on your fur, a sense of speed and ease under your feet when you see the ground passing by. But, as it seemed to you, this moment was too perfect to last long.

Firstly you felt the smell. Bad smell. A mixture of dirt, sweat, old blood and pus, with a subtle bitter aftertaste of alcohol. Surely some inveterate drunkard who didn't notice how far his last binge brought him. However, the smell of alcohol was too weak - drunkards, usually, stinked all over the forest. No, it's someone else.

Cautiously, a noiseless ghost gliding between the trees, you creep up to the freeway - the busiest place on your land. Usually you stay away from it, not touching the rare motorists stopping for a smoke break. Can't hear the cars for now. Along the road, a single human is marching at a quick pace. Not a tramp or a drunkard after all.

Hiding among the thick spruce paws, you watch the small figure fearlessly heading into the heart of your land. A teenage girl, short, thin, completely alone in such wilderness. Of course, you had to deal with lost children - they were the only ones for whom you were ready to make an exception. But this girl doesn’t look lost, scared or desperate. She cheerfully, quickly paces along the empty road, holding a battered bag over her shoulder. A calm half-smile plays on a swarthy face. The girl looks around with interest, the light of joy glistens in the narrowed eyes, covered with uncut bangs.

She's quite happy. She feels good here, alone, in the wild outback, full of legends and fears. The contrast makes you perplexed, so you follow her. The girl runs towards the wind, giggling quietly and not even knowing what is following her now.

She's happy, but leaves behind the smell of dried blood. The smell of human cruelty.

One of two things - either she is dangerous, or she is running from danger. You can’t know for sure with humans.

 _“You're not going to hurt her, right?”_ Asriel asked cautiously. He's a little disturbed. You feel a lump of his anxiety in your stomach. You answer the question with a wave of your own perplexed interest. You'll learn more first.

The girl reaches the burned village. She rummages in ruins, as if wants to find something worth attention. Stupid. There's nothing there. You know, because you saw a bunch of vandals gathering here to take out - or destroy - the little that remains.

Killing them was so much fun.

It's evening, however, the girl isn't leaving. She hides and falls asleep among the trash. You begin to understand. Asriel, in turn, became even more confused. Even becoming acquainted with the merciless world of humans, he couldn't understand it fully. He couldn't comprehend the depth of cruelty that exists in it.

She's a waif, you explain. The word is unfamiliar to him, so it only confuses him even more.

You creep closer so quietly only dust rustles under your paws. The girl sleeps, curled up in a corner and resting her head on a backpack. Leaning toward her, you drawing a new mixture of smells into the sensitive nostrils. Dry cookies, fresh paper, washing powder. Male cologne. Cigarette smoke. Alcohol. Sweat. Hydrogen peroxide. A picture of her past is formed from small, subtle smells.

The girl twitches in her sleep, and you quickly disappear into the shadows. After a while, she curls up again.

 _“You didn’t explain to me._ ” Asriel reminds about himself irritably. Too long to explain. And he won’t like the answer anyway. Little naive kids are better off not knowing some things. He growls in your head in exasperation, and you smile.

He wants to insist on his own, but is interrupted. Hears voices, loud. He's nervous, but anger and excitement flare up in you. Hunting time!

Slipping out from the ruins, falling to the ground, you sneak along the trail. Two humans ahead. Stink of alcohol. Tramps and bastards. The rotten dregs of a society already shattered by hatred. And you, you're just a prudent nurse who cuts rot out of diseased flesh.

What happens next inflames your anger even more. They find the girl. The reaction is predictable - this is not the first time you've watched a similar scene. They run after her like hungry jackals, viciously whistling and hooting.

They don't know they are pursued by a much larger predator.

Of course, the girl was caught up quickly - how long could she run with her little strength. A lump of bodies weaves on the ground - and then you dive down.

Your claws find the first victim, sharply tear it from the girl. You are carried away into the thicket with your prey. It twitches, so you rip it apart. Easily, with pleasure, as if you're cutting a pie for your birthday. But the party is not over yet. Grabbing the carcass, you follow the trail - it's clear, like strokes of moonlight. Two figures at the foot of the mountain. Instead of uniting against one threat, they bicker with each other. How typical for humans.

You're in a good mood today, so you decide to make a small performance in the end.

Not hiding either under the cover of magic or under the veil of forest, you go out to meet them, on a clearing under the shining moon. The noise and the fight subsided. Humans contemplate your majestic figure in fear and awe. Simply posturing, but how nice it feels!

Laughing quietly, you throw them your present. A moment of silence is broken by cries of horror. And before you have time to react, the guy grabs his gun. Rumble pierces your ears. Pain explodes in the right leg.

A veil of hatred covers your head. This fucking bastard dared to attack you. You! This rotten piece of flesh. Dared.

You tear it to pieces, until you can no longer distinguish anything in the bloody remains. With scorn, you throw scraps on the grass - animals and insects will quickly clean this mess for you. Asriel awakens you from animal rage. There is someone else. Her scent runs up the mountain like a ribbon. Into the depths of Ebott. To your kingdom.

You hurry after, hissing irritably. Rei persuades you not to smear the girl on the rocks, and you reluctantly agree - just so he'd shut up. All the same, a fun evening awaits her. You don’t want to kill her, but you can scare her to death - you love this. You are a monster, from inside and out. A human who has finally taken on a form that matches its nature. The form of a demon.

The girl hears you and runs as fast as her short legs allow. You have nothing to fear - the little one cannot hide from you, no matter how hard she tries. However, you still feel anxious, seething, like vomiting, the feeling stuck in your throat. Soon you realize that the feeling isn't yours, but Asriel’s, and you discard it as unnecessary. This offended him. Whatever, you'll have time to apologize to him later.

You come out of a cave too narrow for your size, and stretch out to full height to straighten your back. The girl is standing in front of you, frozen in fear or reverence. Maybe for this cowardly respect you'll even take her away from here, as far from this place as you can.

Events take on a slightly unexpected turn for you, too fast for you to fix anything.

You go down below and the girl gets ready to run. She can’t - her legs fall into a soft sod, and the earth swallows her up to the waist. Damn. Despite all attempts to stop the fall, the girl squeals and falls down. Deep in the bowels. You know she cannot survive such a fall.

Well then. One human brat less.

Offended Asriel is silent, but you feel the severity of his discontent in your soul. Someday he will learn to share your hatred - it will be much easier to live for both of you. It's not like you can get rid of each other with all your desire.

***

After a good hunt, you like to take a nap just as good.

Under the weight of fatigue, even your cluttered old house seems unusually cozy. This amazing feeling once again relieves you from the burden of cleaning. Only leg pain interferes. Healing wounds isn't difficult, but the phantom response still bruises in your ankle. Properly washing in warm water, you climb under your favorite blanket and wrap yourself in it, like in a cozy cocoon, bury your nose in the pillow. Today was a good day.

Asriel doesn't think so. The ghost of his anger whistles in your head with uninvited thoughts. It bites you from the inside like phantom pains - there's no way to get rid of them, because there's no wound that can be closed. Twirling irritably in bed, you ask him to stop. You just dozed off.

 _“You could've saved her!”_ He exclaims. Well, so what, you grumble. You didn't, didn't have time. Not really wanted to, either.

 _“She's just a child!”_ Children are dying too, Rei. Death doesn't give a damn about who became its victim. And so you're not going to worry about the death of the human you saw for the first time. There are more important things - for example, a long afternoon nap.

But Asriel wouldn't be Asriel if he hadn't the habit of becoming a hysterical cunt when he needed to. His anger haunts you like a vengeful ghost, and howls in your ears with dozen unanswered questions. You growl irritably at the pillow.

No, you don't want to explain what's wrong with her. No, you won’t go to the place of her fall. Yes, you are a stubborn hysterical woman, you could understand this for so many years of living together. Yes, these stupid questions infuriate you and no, that doesn't bother you. Fuck off, Asriel.

...after an hour of meaningless debate and sleepless stirring in bed, you finally get up. No, not what you thought, Rei. You want some tea. Strong, floral, fragrant, in a large cup and with a bar of chocolate on a saucer. A cure for your tormented soul.

But your dreams of peace were not destined to come true. And, strangely enough, it wasn't Asriel's fault this time.

A flash of a sharp headache blinded you, making you gasp and sit on the floor. But before your hands touched the carpet, everything disappeared. You lay in your bed again, with your face buried in a pillow. Asriel was silently bewildered. Yeah. What a dream.

 _“And you won't do anything about it?”_ He asked tiredly. Like what? Throw it out of your head? Yes, definitely you will. You roll over on your side and fall asleep. In the end, you managed to escape even more serious problems.

But this time, your peace didn't last long. Knock on the door. Well, here goes the end of your dreams about good sleep. Asriel gloats and giggles maliciously in your ears, advising you to raise your ass and get down to business. Fuck off, Asriel.

But he's right about one thing. They can only knock on your door for a very serious reason, and monsters, as usual, have never violated the rules. So something serious has happened. What do you, as the ruler of this outback, have to go and deal with.

Beyond the threshold, you are met by a small winged Whimsun, alarmed more than usual. Stuttering, with breaks for suppressed sobs and hiccups, he brings you the news. There's a human in the ruins. Alive and unharmed. Heading here.

If Asriel could smile, he would smile all over his face. Like a little, spoiled, mommy's son.

“ _It’s your fault, you decrepit lazy drama queen.”_ Your beloved didn't remain in debt. You'd like to slap him in the face. And you would've, if you hadn't risked ruining your own pretty face.

But now it's your turn to gloat. Because the girl should've died in the fall. Meeting you will be much less merciful. Rei began to argue, but you immediately cut him off. This is a law written in blood and dust on the stones of these Ruins. Humans have no place here. And since none of them can get out of here, then no one will leave. You suppress all his protests rushing out.

Quickly sending several messengers, you glide through the depths of your fortress like a shadow. The news diverges quickly - by your arrival, those few monsters living nearby have already hid in their unpretentious dwellings. Good. What happens next doesn't need extra witnesses.

You meet her at the spring. You find her by the smell of blood stretching along the corridors like a ribbon. Now you see where it comes from. Dipping her hand in a basin of water, the girl slowly cleans the long bleeding cuts. She took off her sweater covered in mud and spools, staying in shorts and a simple sleeveless shirt.

You don’t need to talk to her to understand how and why she ended up here. Everything you need to know is written on her skin. On it, like on a soft brown canvas, black flowers of bruises bloomed; smears of swollen scars burned; lines of healing scratches and red dots of cigarette burns darkened, thin traces of white and pink scars ran.

Asriel is silent in anticipation of something horrible. You look closely for a long time, and the girl notices your reflection in the water, but, of course, doesn't have time to see you. She has a good instinct, but curiosity has led her too deep to get out.

She calls you, and you come, as always. And of course, before the inevitable end, you want to play.

To play with other people's fear, to intimidate and watch how a paralyzed victim can barely breathe is a joke to match your sick sense of humor. The girl turns around, almost falling, meets your gaze, and freezes in place, allowing you to examine her properly. A pretty face, gray with fright, childishly large eyes, fluffy eyelashes and chubby cheeks. Just a child. She seems to be about to faint.

You had very similar eyes. You still remember your human appearance. And so many unhealed wounds. You definitely match on the number of severe scars. Therefore, you don't play with her for too long as with others, and finish her suffering with one precise hit of the sword. This is your mercy.

...then you wake up in your bed, curled up with gritted teeth from an attack of a sharp headache. The pressure in the back of the head and the noise in the ears, it seems, have nothing to do with Asriel, which is strange. As if you woke up from a dream that wasn't a dream. You know the feeling, just too afraid to admit it. You think about it for a long time, aimlessly looking at the ceiling. Then you decide to act.

Throwing a blanket to the floor, you drag yourself into the kitchen. You have no strength or desire to make tea, so you get along with milk, eagerly lapping it right from the bag. Cold liquid freezes the stomach and brightens the mind. Licking yourself like a cat, you put the bag in place and head to the door to open it a second before it's knocked on.

The same conversation again. The same orders again. Walking along the quiet corridors again. As if your life has become a meaningless dream. In part, it is. You're a monster from the nightmare of one little girl who can erase you and forget you, just like you did with your fears many years ago.

Like, what could be worse than another human falling in your kingdom? Only the fact that this human is a noisy, snotty child who is potentially immortal. Fucking hell. The farther the better.

 _“You judge by yourself,”_ Asriel grunted. _"You were such a bully in your time."_

You're still a bully. Does he doubt your ability to create primal chaos? You can quite prove it. You even have a chance to do it right now. Because now you know where to look for a troublemaker, and rush to meet her without extra delay.

In fact, you don’t have too much idea what to do in such a deadlock. You just hope your assumptions are wrong. In the end, these are your possessions, and no one is allowed to break the local laws. Except you, of course.

A girl sprinkles old bones with soil and whispers something quiet and soothing, like a prayer. You watch her tightly, and even Asriel has quieted down. He flashes with surprise inside you when an unnatural, turquoise light soars above the bones. Jagged lines intertwine in a pulsating ball that hovers above a yellowed skull like candlelight. The girl held out trembling hands and wrapped the ball in her palms. The light ran between the fingers, flashed and melted in the air.

Asriel throbbed with joy. You burned with anger. Usually you like to be right, but now you'd like to make a mistake. Alas. Your fears were justified.

Fortunately, you can take your malice out on someone right now.

You come out of the shadows loudly, with noise and thunder, land on the stone floor and shake the quiet halls with hissing roar. Still trembling with shock, the girl instantly jumps, as if acting on a familiar reflex. Instinct pushes her forward - a small figure manages to hide behind a marble column, just before your fire fills the corridor. Red flames lick marble and burn the rare vegetation on the walls, covering them with a layer of ash. A thin, piercing screech is heard behind the howling flame.

Smoke fills your mouth with bitterness, clogs the nostrils. The figure bustles and runs forward, not turning around, not stopping - but can these small legs really take her away from you? You catch her in one jump, knock her down. Claws lightly, but warningly dig into the dirt sweater wool. Your eyes meet again.

“I think I said that I won’t tolerate humans here,” you hiss, with sarcastic surprise in your voice. “Or didn't I? No, of course I did. You should've known."

The girl is silent, unable to squeeze out words from white, dried lips. Her heart beats under your finger pads.

“But since you're here, I should repeat and express myself more clearly.”

Your claws dig a little deeper, find fragile skin, and pierce it like needles. The girl screams. If you squeeze your palm, you will tear her ribcage open. That would be easy.

Instead, you lean closer. Exhale a cloud of sulfuric smoke in her face.

"So. Humans have no place here. And if I see you behind the fortress wall again..."

You open your mouth. Warmness boils in the throat, builds up and breaks out, like lava from a volcano. Tongues of flame play between your fangs, lick your lips. The girl screams, trying to get out of your grip, to escape from deadly heat that scorches her face.

Taking a deep breath, you swallow the fire and close your mouth. Then enclose the grip.

“Now begone with you.”

You don't have to talk twice. Good, you don't like it. The girl dissapeared faster than you have time to get to your feet. The tunnel blackened by soot becomes quiet again.

***

_“This won't help, you know.”_

You and Asriel spent the rest of the evening in tense silence. Sometimes you were angry at him for neglecting your feelings, but not today. Today you didn't need his advice. His attempts to help never lead to anything. More often than not, he just becomes the voice of reason that filled your head with annoying thoughts like “You need to clean the house!” or "You should eat normal food at least once a week!". Ugh, bullshit. It's a pity you can't just close your ears.

The vow of silence was broken late at night, when you, lounging on the couch with a supply of sweets, watched some kind of anime on an old VHS player. At first you didn’t understand what he was talking about, too busy emptying a box of festive chocolate. Confused, you nevertheless answered - and so what? Yoy have any other suggestions? If you can’t kill the annoying brat, then let her stay in some part of the Underground, away from you and other monsters and not interfere.

_“She needs water, Chara. She can't survive there."_

And why on earth should this bother you? You expressed your warning quite clearly - let her just try to break it! And outside of your kingdom, the girl can survive whatever she wants. That's not your business.

_“She won't stop so easily. As soon as she understands what power she has, then..."_

She'll try to come back here again? Let her try. You'll kill her again. And again, just as many times as you need to drive your law into her head. She may be determined, but so are you.

_“At least, more determined than you. Don't underestimate her, Chara.”_

What can she do? Throw the dirt on you? Hit you with a stick? Knock you dead with her friendship magic? Well, well, you're trembling in fear.

 _“You know, judging by all your animes, even great villains can be defeated by the power of friendship, so I'd start to worry,_ ” Asriel’s tense tone was diluted with a laugh. You grinned and put another candy in your mouth. Fortunately, you're not a stupid anime villain who willlessly obey the scriptwriter. You're very stubborn, bloodthirsty and evil.

 _“Oh, don't judge yourself so harshly, Chara,”_ Rei giggled. _"You gained some weight, but you're still a pretty grump with a big heart."_

God dammit, Rei. You're hunting people for fun. And you haven't made any attempt to become better for a long time, because why? You're the demon of the forgotten chambers, who lives on the ruins of an abandoned kingdom. There's no purpose in your life. Everything that could've disappeared has long gone and withered, like your once beautiful gardens.

_“Maybe you can still... still try? It's not that bad, Chara. You can do better."_

But you won’t.

Despite all the changes, you are still human. A disgusting human who has done terrible things. There's no salvation for you. No mercy. So, it makes no sense to change anything.

He speaks again and again, but this time you are silent one.


	4. Wilting of the Leaves— I

Making friends has never been easy for someone like you. Not only because of developing sociophobia getting worse every year. You - a disheveled demure girl always walking around in bruises, telling strange facts about dinosaurs and loving history lessons - never tried to communicate with anyone. Life has taught you that people communicate with you out of pity or out of desire to write off your test, so it's better to be alone and keep the miserable remnants of your self-esteem. You took it for granted that other children didn't want to communicate with you. If you were a different person, you wouldn't want to either.

You could understand Chariel perfectly. Honestly, you yourself don't really like humans. Probably, if you were an ancient monster from fairy tales, you would've also locked yourself in the ruins of fortress and lived in calm solitude, eating intruders for lunch. But you're not an ancient monster, but a twelve-year-old girl who really wants to survive and doesn't want to be either eaten or burned alive.

You didn't really want to lose faith in getting to know her better. You were afraid and avoided adults, but Chariel was the source of answers to all questions about the strange land you found yourself in. For you, she was a walking riddle, a secret you wanted to reveal - and for this you were ready to endure inconveniences. But now you had to avoid the monster at all cost. You didn't want to test her warnings - but you also wanted to survive, and for that you need to get something you had in depressingly small amount. Water.

This was probably the only big minus in your situation. You quickly came to terms with everything else: arranged a bed of grass and leaves for yourself - it's cold at night, but it's bearable, you can warm up at the brazier. You spent your free time inspecting the ruins of first fortress bastion, chewing cookies and nuts for breakfast, lunch and dinner, sometimes reading or trying to draw what you saw. No school, no homework, no scornful glances or whispers behind your back. No grumbling aunt, snide cousins, or cruel uncle. You sacrificed everything, but you belonged to yourself at last.

However, there was only one bottle of water in your bag and it ran out too quickly. Much faster than the stocks of biscuits and dried fruit, which you prudently stuffed as much as possible. And the whole irony of your situation was that the purest mountain spring is literally under your nose, but you can't get to it. Because the ancient monster forbade anyone to approach her domain and will burn you alive if you try to break the taboo.

As time went on, your fear of the monster was suppressed by oncoming thirst. You tried to move less, tried to drink the morning dew, collecting small droplets from the leaves - but that wasn't enough. Thirst has dried your throat, puffed out your tongue like a dry washcloth, filled your head with thoughts of rain. You read in a book once that human can withstand no more than a week without water, and your time was coming up.

In the end, you gave up. Does it matter if you die of dehydration or burning if the outcome is the same? But if you try at least, you'll have a small chance to stay alive. Therefore, taking only a bottle with you, you headed to the spring.

The moat frightened you no longer - the more often you walked along the narrow bridge, the easier it was to walk. You remember wanting to get water from the bottom of the gorge, but quickly dropped the idea. Too far and too deep, and you have no rope. The spring was both simple and very risky variant. But this risk was justified - therefore, taking a deep breath, you entered the open mouth of the old fortress gate.

***

In the middle of the blackened corridor lay a scattered pile of bones. Chariel must have scattered them to remind you how your meeting will end.

On your first nights here, you thought for a long time about what you saw. You wanted to help somehow and didn't think of anything better than to sprinkle the body with earth and say a short prayer - you've remembered this from the time of your mother's funeral. The presence of death didn't frighten you, but was rather familiar, something you always carried with you. First, grandfather fell from illness, then your mother burned out from alcohol just before your eyes - you weren't even ten years old. Memories of these unfortunate moments were vague, suppressed by your will - but you still remembered something in common. What seemed like a feverish vision at first suddenly took on a deeper meaning.

When you sprinkled the bones of that person with soil, a light flashed above them. You've seen this before - the books of myfths told you about the ghosts and wandering lights remaining in the place of cruel death. You took it in your hands - and you heard, or maybe felt, someone else's whisper, someone else's regret that swept through your body, someone else's memories. As if for a short moment you became a different person...

_You are a mighty hunter who came here to destroy the monster that terrifies surrounding villages. None of your order could understand how it got out of its ancient mountain prison, but they understood one thing - you cannot leave it unpunished. You're a good warrior, mastering the ancient art of magic, ready to sacrifice yourself and remain locked in the bowels of the mountain, but defeat the monster that killed many of your friends. The Grand Master blessed your mission, and you hit the road._

_Finding a secluded place, you lay in ambush, patiently waiting for the victim to crawl out of the den. But you didn’t suspect that you weren’t the hunter on this hunt. You became just another victim - and realized this only when you saw red eyes and glowing fangs, too close, too late to escape._

_Neither strength, nor magic, nor patience wasn't enough, because you could never imagine the power this creature possesses. Your journey ends in a sea of raging, all-consuming fire._

...and you became yourself again, a little girl clutching a dying ball of light, drowning in the ocean of someone else's regret. Waking up from a feverish vision, you barely got to your feet - and, not allowing you to recover, Chariel emerged from the shadows in her monstrous grandeur, as if repeating this dream.

You've already seen similar dreams, faint echoes whispered by the dead into your head. Whether it was a fever or a hallucination, you never knew. Adults have always talked about your rich imagination, so their answer would be obvious. Now, stuck on the edge of reality and magic, you could no longer distinguish one from the other.

Moving your eyes from the old blackened skull, you step over the bones and move on. The ash settles in your nose, making you cough and cover your face with your hand. It's okay, just a little more. Silence reigns in the underground halls, which soothes you, albeit a little. Only the fire quietly crunches in the braziers and the rumbling noise of a brook is heard in the distance. _Water_ , the mere thought of it made you move, despite the danger that can easily hide in the shadows. The spring murmured invitingly, which made your throat constrict with a painful spasm. The water surface glittered in the semi-darkness like precious silver, and you rushed to it as to the treasury.

Forgetting everything, even Chariel, you drank and drank, raking water with your palms. The cold liquid burned your hands, your mouth and stomach were numb as if you had just swallowed a handful of snow, but you didn’t stop. You didn't know how long it took until you finally recoiled from the spring, breathing heavily, wiping the ice drops from your lips and neck. A whole chain of events happened to you, varying in the degree of crap, but you've never felt better. As if you just drank from the spring of eternal youth that gave you vitality and beauty you never had.

After filling your only bottle to the top, you decided to look around for another container. It's best to draw as much water as you can carry while you can. Fumbling around the buckets and basins placed around, you noticed a nervous stirring in the pile of leaves and reached out with your hand to turn in up. At the same moment, the scarlet foliage scattered to the sides, something screamed, flew out in front of you like firework, and you retreated with a gasp. You stumbled on a nearby basin thet responded with a loud steel rumble, and you nearly fell.

In front of you, holding up tiny hands in horror, the very same fae you saw on the bridge was hunging in the air. Small eyes burned with fear, the bee's wings shook and barely held him on the fly. Realizing you're looking at him, he opened his mouth.

"A-a-ah! Anyone! Guards! Help!"

A thin voice echoed through the underground corridors and hit you like a strap, like a slap from your aunt. Startled, you frantically waved your hands and whispered quickly:

"No, no, please don't shout! I won't hurt you, honestly! I'll do anything, just don't shout!"

Breathing heavily, the moth still fell silent, but that didn't calm you too much. It seems, a little more, and he will burst into tears even more, and then the whole fortress will know about your presence.

"Hush, calm down, please. If Chariel hears you, she'll kill me! I'm leaving now, just don't shout."

"She'll... what?" The fae asked nervously. “But Her Highness told me she drove you out of here, back to the humans. She is... strict, but very kind. She wouldn't kill anyone!"

You laughed nervously in response. Of course she didn't. And that poor fellow, for whose bones you had to perform the funeral yourself, of course, died a natural death. He just set himself on fire and quite by accident. Yeah, sure.

The awkward silence was interrupted by a faint croaking, and the moth broke off, headed for the nearest bushes. Unable to contain your curiosity, you followed him. Another monster found shelter there, and, apparently, he was stuck in a thicket of thorny barberry. He and his friend probably heard you and hid where they could in fright. Noticing your approach, he climbed out awkwardly. This one looked like a big frog - if, of course, the frogs had round ears and sleek white fur. He kept his front paw suspended.

“Um… hi,” you muttered awkwardly. "Sorry if I scare you."

“Meow,” said the frog. He lifted his paw carefully, showing you red-crusty webbed fingers. The faerie gasped behind you.

"Mal-Mkhagash, are you hurt?!"

The monster meowed sadly.

"May I take a look?" You muttered softly. The monster hesitated, looked at you and carefully extended its wounded paw. You took it carefully in your hands. The white fur was slightly damp and slimy to the touch. There was blood caked on it; leaves and thorns stuck up here and there. Apparently, the monster was badly scratched when it jumped into the barberry bushes.

The wounds looked familiar and conjured up images of vague memories. The only difference is that your cuts weren't accidental.

Having made up your mind, you rolled up your sleeve and unwound the loose bandage. The blood and dirt on it was mixed in brown spots, and you washed it as best as you could in water. Then you carefully took out the splinters, washed the wounds and bandaged them as well. That's much better. After all, it's not the first time you had to improvise with wound treatment.

The monster croaked good-naturedly, bloated. On his belly, you suddenly noticed another muzzle that meowed in gratitude. Yeah, fairy tales and myths definitely didn't tell you about such creatures.

“Oh-oh… thanks. I w-wouldn't do it by myself'', muttered the faerie circling above you. He struggled not to cry, either from happiness or from the fright he had endured. Carefully, you tried to cheer him up.

"You're welcome. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” You squeezed out a small smile. "What's your name? I'm…"

You broke off. Should you tell your real name? Who knows how this will backfire on you. However, your nervous delay either went unnoticed or was tactfully missed.

"M-my name is... Delan-De... and this is Mal-Mkhagash..." The monster confirmed the words with a loud croak. “This is the first time I see... a real human. Mrs. Dimhal... said they were very dangerous."

"Some of them. But not me! I'm here by accident and I don't want to offend anyone at all”, you waved your hands with a confused smile. "Maybe you can help me out a little?"

Mal-Mkhagash meowed contentedly and rubbed his head against your leg like a strange toad-like cat. The second monster was more indecisive. He paused in embarrassment and considered before answering: "W-well, I guess... what do you want?"

At last! Finally, a long-awaited opportunity to get at least some answers about the world of chaos you've been brought! You barely contained yourself not to dump a whole bunch of questions on the little faerie. Something can wait, but now you need to learn something really important:

"Can I get out of here? And so that Chariel doesn't notice?"

There was a silence, broken only by the murmur of water and a thoughtful croak. You almost lost hope until Delan-Dé finally said:

"I think there is. B-but I'm not sure if you can... although... you're a human and all..."

"Please! Anything!“ You're really looking forward to being safe. At least relatively.

“W-well… there are old tunnels under the fortress. N-no one uses them anymore... they lead to the Withered Gardens..." you nodded vigorously to the approving croak. "A-and there's an exit to the Surface... next to the old Tree of Lovers..."

You weren't so attentive even on your favorite history lessons. Capturing and memorizing each word, you methodically scrolled it through your memory. Old storage facilities. Pull a non-burning torch. Old Gardens, a tree without foliage and a large carved gate. Everything turned out to be much easier than you thought. The monster, it seems, didn't expect so many thanks from you, because he got nervous and burst into tears. Wow, you have a lot in common.

Having calmed him down, you sat down comfortably in the grass and continued asking questions: "And what are those Withered Gardens? Who even thought of growing gardens underground?"

"Oh! It's a beautiful story... we learned it at school. Once upon a time, when even Chariel was young, she befriended a prince from the old kingdom. They fell in love and decided to get married... and as a wedding gift the prince gave her the most beautiful gardens he could grow."

“I don’t think the Withered Gardens would be the most beautiful,” you chuckled.

"Oh n-no! They weren't always like this. The prince raised them with his powerful spells... but when he died, the magic dried up and the gardens withered..."

"Died? What happened?"

Mal-Mkhagash puffed up and fell silent awkwardly, but his winged friend still answered you: "W-well... I d-don't know the whole story... but... just don't tell Her Highness that I told you..." Delan-De exhaled through his stuttering and uncertainty: "Humans killed her fiancé... right before their wedding..."

Oh, so that's the thing.

You were dejectedly silent, petting the silent monster on the top of his head. In part, this explained why Chariel greeted all humans with such anger and hatred - even you. Probably, in her place you would've also hated the whole human race. It's difficult to imagine what it was like for her to lose her lover, and on the eve of their wedding. You wouldn't be surprised if, in her upset feelings, she did something rush - like burning down an entire village, for example. It definitely made sense.

"Are there any settlements here?" You remembered one more question, distracting everyone from the uncomfortable topic at the same time.

"Of course! S-some live in the Gardens or fortress Ruins... but most live in Haven-Among-Gardens... Or Fasgach-mensa-Garrad. it's a town on the other side of the river. B-but you shouldn't... go there... adults can hurt you..."

"And what is the Old Home then?"

The question arose by itself. After all, Chariel called herself the Duchess of the Old Home, and you expected that this would be the name of her domain. In response, however, you stumbled upon a cautious, frightened silence.

"Is something wrong?" You asked awkwardly.

Mal-Mkhagash began to croak, but stopped as if choking, and pouted like a wary toad. The little faerie yelped and disappeared from sight. Then you realized something was, indeed, wrong. This very thing sighed in irritation and doused you with acrid sulfur breath. With muscles paralyzed by fear, you hardly turned around.

You knew you had to run right away. And now you're in a huge ass trouble.

"Mal-Mkhagash, please leave us alone. Me and this human need need to talk." Chariel's voice was even and calm, but her eyes could turn you to ashes. Well, she'll do it very soon anyway.

With a dejected croak, the monster disappeared into the caves, leaving you alone with a huge, sleepy and very angry monster woman. Your arrival was clearly fell at a bad time. Chariel was wearing a tousled terry robe and a purple nightgown stained with chocolate - she clearly never intended to leave the house. The monster looked crumpled and not as majestic as before - which, however, didn't make her any less frightening. One sight of her made your legs shake.

“Sorry,” you muttered, out of habit rather than necessity. As expected, Chariel wasn't impressed by your words.

"Do you think an apology will save you?" I warned you, if I ever see you again..."

...so you decided to use your legs. And, flashing under the hem of her dirty shirt, you rushed into the familiar corridor without turning around. This gave you a couple of seconds of head start before Chariel roared at the top of her throat and rushed after.

In fact, you didn't know you could run that fast. Deadly situations can open up amazing abilities in people.

A hard dash, and Chariel landed beside you, the paved floor trembling beneath her. You barely had time to duck your head before her claws could grab you, and jumped out through the gate onto the bridge. For the first time in your life, you were glad to see this damn place. Although you weren't happy for long. Once again, stumbling over your own foot, you realized how much you hate yourself and your weak body. You managed to grasp on the stones, but your pitiful strength wasn't enough to rise. And the approaching, overhanging figure of Chariel deprived you of any chances.

Closing your eyes, you wondered what else you have to cling to. Your life has always meant so little even to yourself, but now something appeared in it that really mattered. Enthusiasm. Independence. Real, sincere joy from meeting a new day. Whatever it was, you loved this new life. And you definitely didn't want to let it go.

Your weakened fingers slipped off the smooth stone. Heart skipped a beat and got stuck somewhere in your throat. A firm grip closed on your wrist, and the sensation of free falling abruptly ceased. You were thrown out of the abyss and into the air like a toy on a string, then roughly crushed onto the hard surface of the bridge. Chariel released your hand, letting your body fall to the stone.

You were shaking. You waited, listening to the interrupted exhalations and breaths, you waited for her to pounce on you, to tear, devour, burn, destroy and erase from memory. Her brutal, bloodshot eyes never let go of you, and an irresistible irritation was clearly read in them. But she never touched you. She got up, waving her tail nervously, turned around and walked back into the depths of her fortress.

"But why?" You squeezed the question out of yourself faster than you could comprehend the consequences. Chariel paused, thinking. But only for a moment.

"Get out."

You wanted to know. You need to know. You followed her.

She turned around, the wide hem of her robe flying into the air like a cloak.

" _LEAVE!_ " Her roar shook the walls of the fortress, rattling echoes swept through the cave. Eerie fangs showed in an embittered grin, nostrils flared and spat out a cloud of smoke. This time you broke down.

You stopped only when your makeshift bed appeared in the twilight, on which you immediately fell, scattering leaves and breathing heavily. The head was blissfully empty. More often then usual. You lay and listened to the birds singing, the crickets chirping in the grass, and the air wheezing out of your chest. The bliss ended when you were interrupted by an unpleasant thought. You forgot your water bottle.

And you were thirsty again.

Damn it.

***

The warehouses Delan-De had spoken of lay deep in a maze of underground corridors. Finding them, however, wasn't that difficult - just walk along the fortress wall, carefully listening. The room turned out to be spacious, but empty - everything was taken out of it, except for garbage. The idea seemed more and more dubious to you, but now it's too early to draw conclusions. If Delan-De is right, you can find an exit to the surface through the Gardens. You didn't want to leave for good - not at all! - but it'll be better if you take refuge on the other side of the mountain. Where there is water and where Chariel won't hunt you.

Going down the creaking stairs to the depths of the warehouses, you involuntarily wondered why all the monsters you saw dislike humans so much. What made them huddle so deeply into the bowels of the earth, away from human sight? Legends have told you about evil dragons burning villages, man-eating trolls and fairies stealing children - but not the other way around. The conflict remained just another secret for you, one of many.

The old tunnels didn't seem like a safe way to get to the Gardens, but if you choose between the threat of a collapse and Chariel, you chose collapse. The Duchess of Monsters explained very clearly what would happen if you caught her eye once again. And dying under the stones doesn't hurt as much as inside the cruel flame.

The only torch on the wall hasn't been burned for a while and has rusted with time. Uncertain, you pulled on it, smearing your fingers in ash. At first it didn't give in, but when you, grasping the mount with both hands, leaned on it with all your weight, the mechanism creaked and turned. A piece of brickwork turned heavily on rusty hinges and opened a low cave passage for you. Trembling with impatience, you slid inward with your head bowed.

You've read about these tunnels. They were built in many fortresses and castles, so that, in the heat of an attack, the royals would have the opportunity to escape from besieged city. According to the young monster, the tunnels were passing under the entire fortress, which means you can get not only to the Withered Gardens, but to other interesting places as well. And surely in the underground labyrinth will be a passage to the heart of the ancient city - which you will surely find, but not now. Once you find a safer place and move there, you'll have plenty of time to explore the secrets of old passages.

The underground journey wasn't the easiest one. Unlike the fortress corridors, the narrow cave passages, with their low ceilings and slippery stones, weren't designed for comfort and beauty. Soon you scratched your hands, crawling through the dark passage. The only sources of light were the tiny eyes of crystals, blue and purple, watching you crawl through the intricacies of passages. It seemed like you dived into a giant stone anthill. As you hated it, you couldn't compare this place with the labyrinth of the minotaur - no legendary minotaur would fit into such a narrow cesspool. But here you certainly don't need to worry about Chariel.

In fact, you didn't really know where you were going. The passages branched out now and then, rose higher or descended inland, led from one fork to another. Of course, there were indications on the walls of the tunnels, faintly flickering like inscriptions carved into the stone by blue light - which turned out to be completely useless to you. All of them were written in strange runic symbols, you couldn't even understand what kind of language it was, let alone read it. In the end, you just went at random.

It has been long enough even for your thirst for adventure that started to thin out and give way to anxiety. You had to stop, rest a little and replenish your strength. If you don't think that you may be lost, then the underground passages seemed quite cozy. The gems of the depths faintly flickered and looked like little stars in the darkness of caves. That little crystal found by your grandfather must have come from these places. Unable to resist, you broke off a few pebbles and shoved them into your pockets, feeling better than the dragon hoarding a treasure.

When the tunnel began to rise up and crumbling steps showed ahead, you realized you had come to the place. Ahead you saw a faint light, faint rays of the sun thet penetrated through many caves and slightly dispersed the eternal darkness of the underworld. The entrance was covered with fallen leaves and entwined roots. Carefully clearing them, you looked around, but saw nothing but withered grass and tree trunks. As quietly as possible, you removed the last leaves from the road and made your way out.

The Duchess's lavish gardens looked much darker than you imagined. Carefully making your way through the thickets, you couldn't help thinking they look much more like a mystical grove where witches perform rituals on the full-moon night. Unkempt, unfriendly, forever hidden by the twilight, the Withered Gardens greeted you with oppressive silence. The birds were silent, the crickets were silent, the cold evening wind was silent too. Bushes have formed a thick wall around you, bristled with sharp branches, fluffed up yellow foliage. Dead grass and thorny weeds have long seized the flower beds, not leaving a single flower on them. Black tree trunks stood like gloomy columns, dry branches blocked the remnants of light from the surface. All the foliage flew off them, covering the ground with a red veil. There were gravel paths in some places; they were overgrown and washed away, leaving behind only a faint trail of scattered stones. Another sign that before you was still a garden, and not a forest, were the gutters covered with rotting foliage. The water in them has long stagnated.

The whole place was saturated with former beauty and nostalgic sadness for times long gone. Surely once it was incredibly beautiful here - you rarely find such gardens on the surface. But now, abandoned and dreary, they grinned at you with dry branches as if ordering you to leave. Just like Chariel, their owner.

Fortunately, that's why you came.

Following the direction of well-trodden paths, but keeping distance from them, you wandered through the thickets to the edge of the grove. Although there was no one around, you thought it was worth being careful. This place was once full of life and you didn't know what you might stumble upon. On the way came across old, dry benches; in the distance, you even noticed an old fountain in the shape of a lion, all covered with foliage. Gloomy but still good place to spend an evening with family. However, no one showed up.

And yet, in this oppressive silence, surrounded by dreary wilting, you felt that life in the gardens was going on, and it was unhappy with your intervention. That's strange - the only creatures besides you were only numerous insects who didn't care about your existence. But the further you wandered through the thicket, the stronger the understanding grew that surrounding vegetation itself was the aggressor here. The branches hanging over your head a moment ago clung to your face like sharp, twisted fingers. Sinewy roots suddenly tangled right under your feet, pushing you into anthills and puddles. The bumps seemed to fall on your head on purpose, the thorns blocked the path and grabbed the sweater, tore apart the fragile skin on your legs and palms.

Nature itself hated you. Which, however, is not that surprising. You hated yourself no less.

After some time, you, scratched and tired, managed to fall out onto the trampled path. It ran over an old wooden bridge, climbed a hill and led higher. After drinking from a small babbling brook, you went on and realized you had found the right place. Before you on the flat top of the hill stood the Old Tree of Lovers, large and withering. The foliage fell off it, but the branches weren't bare - a huge variety of colored ribbons hung on them. The sun's rays fell from the many holes in the rock, as if on purpose snatching an old tree out of shadows. A part of you wanted to lie down and rest on a blanket of leaves; the other was languishing with an incomprehensible melancholy. The place was so beautiful, but abandoned, unkempt, uncomfortable. These Gardens seem to be frozen in a moment of endless wilting, unable to return to their former beauty or die completely.

Tearing yourself away from the tree, you headed up the crumbling steps to the visible carved arch. You've already seen a similar one - at the entrance to these ruins, which means you finally had a chance to find a way out. Surrounded by columns and braziers, was a gate, on which a symbolic angel spread his wings. Their doors were so high and wide they occupied the entire underground passage. Sighing nervously, you tried to move them. The gate didn't even budge.

A dry laugh echoed behind you.

"They're specially locked so humans like you don't get into the Undeground," you recognized the malicious voice instantly. “But, as you can see, it doesn't always help."

You turned carefully. Chariel stood below, under the shade of a tree, her arms crossed behind her back, gaze lost somewhere in its crown. She was wearing a simple lilac dress with a casually thrown cape, which, judging by the folds and stains, hadn't been washed for a long time. For some reason, she seemed much more formidable and terrifying last time.

"Well, I won't stop you. Get out if you want.” A small light lit up between her fingers, which immediately melted as soon as she clicked. The stone bulk of the gate shuddered. The doors creaked menacingly. Heavy and motionless, they opened easily under your little palm. The sun's rays hit your eyes.

“Thank you,” you muttered softly. Chariel didn’t answer. Her gaze wandered among the colorful ribbons on the black branches.

Sighing heavily, you prepared to leave the underworld. You knew the gates would slam shut after you forever - but, probably, it's for the best. Each of you should exist where they belong. And if you're not welcome here, you can go somewhere else. In the end, nothing can erase the wonders of the underworld from your memory.

However, something you never expected to meet stood in your way.

A wall.

A wall you haven't seen and bumped your nose onto pretty well. The blow echoed in your ears, and spots spread all around. Stepping back, you reached out and touched the obstacle. The wall, woven of an almost imperceptible, gray light, stood in its place and wasn't going to let you go further. What the…?

"Do you think if it was that simple, I wouldn't do it right away?" Chariel's voice rang out like a booming echo in the underground passage. She stood at the arch, looking at you with a melancholy and gloomy look.

“But you can get through here, right?" You muttered in bewilderment. The monster chuckled.

"I'm the only one that can. This powerful spell doesn't release anyone from the bowels of this mountain. I'm powerful enough to get through it, but even I can't destroy it."

That is, you won't be able to get out of here. Never.

Not like it upset you much.

"Then... why don't you just kill me?" You found the strength to utter a tormenting question. Chariel broke into a malicious smile. Gray light flashed across her ravenous fangs.

_"Didn't I try before?"_

The shock made you freeze in place. The questions swirled in your head like flies, multiplying every second. Chariel, however, turned around and went downstairs. She was clearly not in the mood to answer. Behind your back, the sun slowly set behind the mountain peaks and sank into the deep green of the forest. Looking at it, perhaps for the last time, you hurried downstairs. The gates creaked and slammed shut behind your back.

Chariel stopped at the tree, examining the ribbons on its dry branches again. Your instincts told you now was the time to quietly leave - but hey, you wouldn't be yourself if you didn't try to find out some more dark secrets. Therefore, very slowly and carefully approaching closer, you stopped half a meter from Chariel. Her long tail moved slowly from side to side, as if in time with her thoughts. You really wanted to touch her white, pompom-like tassel.

...there are many reasons why this is a bad idea.

"Excuse me," you distracted yourself from the contemplation of her tail and raised your head, but the monster didn't turn around. "May I ask what you mean?"

“No,” she growled shortly. "Get lost. I'm tired of you."

There's usually much more rage in her words, and they're accompanied by fire and growls rather than oppressive silence. But Chariel didn’t look angry or even annoyed, rather… drained. Tired, consumed by her own inseparable sadness. Perhaps this gave you courage when you decided to take a desperate step. Coming close - your head barely reached Chariel's waist - you put your hand on her fur-covered palm. An angry growl instantly hit your ears, and you made an effort to keep your voice from cracking:

“I'm sorry… for you and your fiancé. You didn't deserve it, and I understand why you... don't like humans very much. But I promise I will never harm you or any of the monsters."

She growled in annoyance and crossed her arms. It's a shame, you'll miss the soft fur on her palms.

"Did monsters tell you? Of course they did. Every stone in the Ruins knows this story."

There was an awkward silence between you for a while, you were afraid to raise your head to see her eyes and recognize her emotions. Finally, she continued:

"Believe me, you are much more dangerous than you think", she narrowed her eyes, and you averted your gaze, as if expecting another scolding from your aunt. “Humans are constantly bringing trouble to us. They're killing us, destroy our cities... lock us here with no way to see the sunlight. That's why I protect this place with all my might. For those who are still left."

“W-well… I would never kill anyone,” you justified. Chariel just grunted.

" _He_ thought so once, too. And look where are we now."

You hesitated, not knowing what to answer. The feeling was, in general, familiar. It’s time to get used to the heavy burden of guilt on your shoulders. Once you realized, you quickly suppressed your emotions and focused on what was happening. Chariel didn’t notice your distraction. She herself was deeply immersed in her own thoughts.

“He thought our wedding would bring a new era of peace. That we can free everyone, go to the Surface and live among humans. And he went out to them with outstretched hands. That naive idiot..." She grunted mirthlessly. Her voice was full of bitter grief. "And they killed him. Right here. Right before my eyes..."

She paused, realizing she had blurted out too much. You wanted to say something warm, bright, full of hope to her, but the words never came to mind. Therefore, you stood in silence, looking at the wilting of the leaves and remembering, each about something different. You remembered the funeral; mother's snow-white dress and her same-colored face, cold firm hands crossed over the chest. For the first time, she looked carefree and happy, free from you and other responsibilities that bind her to this world. And yet, the last time you touched her palms, you felt a residual warmth - and bitter, acrid and green as wormwood, regret. She wasn't a good mother, but she loved you anyway; even though her concern and _kindness_ eventually led you into a vicious circle of hatred and violence.

Chariel was probably thinking something like that too, because she closed her eyes and lowered her head, ignoring your presence. Deciding it was time to escape, you stepped back and tiptoed back to where you came from. Neither branches nor thorns touched you on the way back, as if nature froze in a moment of sorrow together with Chariel. Except the last falling leaves that swirled and hid in the unkempt bush of your dirty hair.


	5. Weeping Scars - II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: flashbacks, violence, mentions of rape and abuse, accidental Mylene Farmer references.

Asriel woke you up early in the morning, despite your angry and sometimes obscene protests. Somehow, wenturing to the kitchen and having tea, you fall into your armchair with your whole heavy body and prepare to spend the rest of the day in this position. You need to finish your knitting and reading that old book, and the anime itself won't watch itself. So many things to do.

In other words, you never left the house. As long as you have a supply of chocolate in your fridge and the painful boredom doesn't eat away at your heart, you ain't leaving your cozy, through not very clean, den. Only once your idyll was disturbed by Loox knocking and asking about the human in the Ruins. This news has long been spred into every corner of your backwoods and owergrew with ridiculous rumors. You assured the monster there was nothing to be afraid of, no problem at all, and the human is just an emotional invention of a young monster. Then you swooped down on the sofa again and spent the rest of the day there.

And you totally adored this stable, not very eventful lifetime.

You got out of the house in the next day, late at night and not for your own free will. You opened the window to air out for the night and were about to go to the shower and rest, but the smell interrupted the routine. The very familiar smell you didn't want to sniff so close to your house. You flew outside in a bathrobe and a gown you haven't changed for several days. Well, your subjects will somehow cope with the surprise of your casual appearance. Now you're worried about some serious problem. This problem, as if nothing had happened at all, sat by the spring, surrounded by two monsters. That someone you definitely prohibited appearing here and that clearly underestimated your threat.

You crept closer, watching the scene. On the one hand, the devastating anxiety ordered you to attack - a human can easily kill a monster with bare hands, especially the one as weak as Whimsun. On the other, you almost wanted the girl to do it. You wanted to see her step over the line, to confirm your fears and give you a reason to kill her.

Instead, you watched the girl pulling the battered bandage off her hand and carefully bandaging Froggit's injured paw. Unhealed cuts were seen on her wrist, red and covered with fresh bloody crust, as if it's been ripped off recently. The girl quickly pulled up her sleeve and hid them. A conversation ensued between the monsters and the human, and you froze behind, not knowing what to do. She helped this monster. She just helped him without expecting anything in return. She gave the only bandage she needs for herself.

 _"For the sake of the great Angel, Chara, stop being overdramatic!"_ Asriel exhaled wearily into your ear. " _She's just a child, what else did you expect from her? She's harmless, you see!"_

You won't be fooled by a pretty face. Yes, she is a child, you grew up among human children - and you know perfectly well how cruel they can be. They pull out flowers and hair, they crush glasses and heads, they break chairs and arms. You know - because you _remember_. Locks torn from the skin, the back of your head sticky with blood, and crooked, broken fingers. They were small, but cruelty amused them, and they tore your clothes, your skin, your body, until you had the courage to fight back. But even this didn't drive them away for long - one against the pack, what could you do?

Asriel falls silent, consumed by the shadows of your memories. Sensing trouble, the girl turned around just to meet you nose to nose. She nervously pressed her head into her shoulders. Froggit meowed uncertainly.

"Mal-Mkhagash, please leave us alone. Me and this human have to talk". You gave the frozen girl a glare that could ignite stones. Little monster didn't dare to argue, grunted softly as a sign of respect and quickly galloped away. A tense silence fell in the corridors.

“Sorry,” the girl muttered without looking up. You growled. A lump of furious fire lodged in your throat, ready to burst out.

"Do you think an apology will save you? I warned you, if I see you again..."

The rustle of leaves sweeps between your words, and you suddenly realize you're talking to a wall. Asriel hums disgustingly in your head, and you snort irritated sparks from your nostrils.

All right. That's enough.

Like a furious animal, you fall on your arms and rush after, easily jumping onto walls and pillars. A single dash - and you land right in front of the girl, but she doesn't stop. Small, like a mouse, she runs under you, barely avoiding the flickering claws. She manages to sweep under the gate and run out to the bridge. You stop in thought - should you continue the pursuit? The girl was exhausted and stopped, greedily gulping air, and you followed her step, inevitable and quiet. Exhaling convulsively, she looked at you and ran again. It will be fun to chase her through the corners of the Ruins until the obnoxious brat falls over from fatigue and begs for mercy.

The exhausted girl cried out weakly, tripping over her own leg. She managed to dodge and grab the edge, and it was the only thing that saved her from falling into the merciless moat. Her fingers dug desperately into the rock, too slippery to climb. You hesitated. Asriel was worrying. Should you interfere? In any other case, you wouldn't lift a finger, but... she helped that monster. She stayed, risking her life. As much as you wouldn't like to admit it, but the act was noble. You have long lost the nobility inherent in the royal family, but still appreciated this quality. And you definitely didn't expect that from a human.

With a cry, the girl fell off the bridge. You and Asriel acted at the same time. A jump, and a small wrist was in your grip. She's so light your jerk threw her into the air for a moment. With a faint cry, the girl rolled on the ground, battered but alive. No, Asriel, you're not kind-hearted or a heroine.The damn girl will take away the precious time with her, and you didn't want to live the past day again. And since she was so... gracious and helped the monster, in return you helped her. Quid pro quo, as they say.

But this is the end of your grace, and, wagging your tail, you went home, to straighten the disturbed sofa and rest. Asriel coils in your stomach like a ball of anxiety, feeling your repressed memories, and is lost in his own. They're about to burst out, a wave of bitter acid from your brain, eating away at your muscles, bones and mind. Asriel's voice falls silent, unable to reach you from the depths of the ocean of bile. The taste of bitterness fills the mouth, the smoke clogs the nostrils, the roar of shots breaks your eardrums. Your stomach is full of lead. The white wool is smeared with blood, your body disintegrates, splits to become stardust, and you can't feel your legs.

Extended claws dug into the hand so the pain would return you to the real world for a moment. The damn girl should've run away, but instead she comes closer and says something, asks. You can't hear her. You see a human and hear nothing but the orders of your animal fury. Kill her before she kills you. Do it now, tear it apart, throw it into the fire, into the moat, bury it under stones, before bullets and axes smash your fragile shell into dust. You see a danger that needs to be eliminated - but also you're a little frightened girl who's backing away from something huge and cruel. You want to tear the human apart, but you are a human. Humnas laugh and rip your clothes to shreds, but you laugh too and rip their flesh to shreds. Memories mix like blood and bile in the cauldron of your brain, and you no longer know who _YOU_ are. Because there is no _YOU_ , there is only _WE_ , а sick product of bad decisions, not a human or a monster, but something less than both.

Asriel holds you in place like a tied bull, and you growl at the top of your lungs, furious and annoyed, because it's time for the brat to leave if she wants to live. Finally it comes to her, she runs and hides in the labyrinth of passages. The illusory leash that kept your mind in place snapped, releasing animal terror and anger. The ghosts of the past gather around like an army, and you rush about, driving them back into the corners of your consciousness. When you wake up, the walls around are covered with deep claw marks.

Not wasting time, we rush back home, to a safe place hidden from prying eyes. We want to see Mom and Dad, to throw ourselves in their arms and cry about what a terrible day it was. But the house is empty; we have been its only inhabitants for many years. The fireplace doesn't crinkle, there's no clinking of plates and no smell of fresh pie. There is nothing but silence in the dark corridors. The bed seems unusually cold, and, clinging to your common body, we are trying to divide the memory and feelings of each other.

The night passes badly.

***

Today your morning began at noon, and it only started because of the nightmare that woke you and Asriel at this hour. For some reason, the long sleep only made it worse. The body was numb, and your head was cracking even more than usual. Groaning, you pulled a robe out of a pile of clothes and crawled into the bathroom. Cold shower helped you gather strength and thoughts - you hated to lose control over anything, and especially over your own head. Unfortunately, sometimes your shared mind became too unstable and weak. There are many things you'd like to forget. Although Asriel helped you hold back, dividing your brain space didn't help, and sometimes only made the situation worse.

You got out of the shower, spreading around the smell of wet fur, lit the fireplace and turned on the kettle. Flower tea was the main fuel for thought and a permanent feature of breakfast. After so many years, your life has been turned upside down many times, but at least something about it was still constant. Hot, spicy drink warmed you from within, and even Asriel purred in relief as he felt the calm warmth. So much better; like a restless blizzard in the depths of your soul finally settled down, leaving alone your thoughts scattered like snowflakes. You could finally sit and properly think.

 _"You should've done this several days ago!"_ Grumbles your beloved. " _And I told you about it!"_

It's okay, darling, the problem hasn't go anywhere. This, unfortunately, is the problem. Therefore, you still have to intervene and somehow solve it.

Although the last thing in the world you, sitting with a cup of tea in an comfy armchair by the fireplace, wanted to think about the girl. This little two-legged misunderstanding fell like snow on your head and turned everything in your quiet life upside down. And, since the girl didn't want to die or stay in caves, you have to come up with another way to control her.

...on the other hand, are there so many options left? You have to let her stay here anyway. Maybe it will be even better if she lives in the Haven, among the monsters and under your constant supervision. Your people mistrust humans and honor the law forbidding them to appear here. But monsters are kind by nature, they will close their eyes if you make an exception for one child. And one of them will certainly agree to shelter a little, lost orphan - for example, Dimhal. She worked at the school for many years and knows how to handle problematic children...

Asriel responds with approval, and you feel his warm joy in your chest. You grumble and take a long sip from your cold cup. You're not doing this for her! However, the girl will be much more dangerous if you don't look after her. And in the town, among the guards, she'll always be in sight - let her just try to do something! You will close her in a tomb and leave there to rot, along with her kin who came before.

 _“You know she won't do anything,”_ Asriel sighs tiredly. Ah, Rei, you've always been and will always remain a naive child. Never mind, he will soon see for himself how wrong he is. Emptying the cup in one gulp, you rushed upstairs to comb your hair and dress up. It's time to take a walk among your favorite Gardens.

***

You didn't have to wait long. The girl got out of the same tunnel she used last time. Of course, you knew about the system of underground passages under the fortress - after all, these are your Ruins! You didn't use them - the horns and three meters in height didn't allow you to move along narrow passages as deftly as your smaller kin. However, it wasn't necessary. You could run, soar and fly, glide in wind, water and shadows. You don't need those mouse holes. Now, hidden under a cloak of magic, you watched the girl like a lurking predator. Your rich suspicions only needed one clue. Just one reason that would be the spark igniting the oil of mistrust. Asriel can call you a drama queen as much as he wants, but you'll prove it to him. Let's see who will be the last to laugh.

Unfortunately, your two days of observation didn't go as well as planned, because the girl did nothing useful during all this time. Here, she washed her face by the stream. Gathered pebbles on the shore. Sat under the Tree of Lovers to eat cookies. Played with a pile of fallen leaves. Took out an album and draw. Fed the ducks with cookie crumbs. Fiddled with a shovel in the mud. In other words, she was doing what children usually do, and it made you angry.

Angry because Asriel called you a drama queen and was right. And also you wasted a lot of time. 

You came home again late and in an extremely angry mood. Then made some tea and sank back into the armchair. The first shoots of doubt began to grow in your head - what if Rei is right? What if the girl is completely harmless, and you just breed a storm in a glass? This human child was like a splinter in the pad of your paw you can't get out. Perhaps it was worth to just talk to her. You can toss her to some compassionate monster, and that's the end of it. The town is full of guards, they will solve any problems quickly and without your intervention. But this waits for tomorrow, and for now...

Pulling on the unfinished knitting and threads, you continued your new sweater. The fireplace crackled comfortably, Asriel hummed a quiet melody in your head. The moment of peace was perfect — too perfect to last long. 

The phone rang out loudly, and you groaned with pity. Here we go again. 

*** 

You got up early, despite the fact you were busy until late at night yesterday. A strange anxiety settled like a lump in your stomach, like an ulcer, and didn't give rest. You couldn't tell if it was your feeling, Asriel's or your both. 

Several refugee boats arrived last night, loaded even more than usual. Some of the monsters were injured, some left behind their relatives and friends, but they all lost their property and roof over their heads. Lost, frightened, they huddled together in one crying crowd while you and the lord chancellor with an army of scribes filled out new documents for them. Healers rushed among them, volunteers took the newcomers out of the port and helped them get to temporary hostels. There wasn't enough space, time, or energy, and there were about a hundred monsters around s who need your help. 

The night passes badly for everyone. 

After a quick breakfast, you rushed back to town to finish yesterday's business. The more residents arrived, the more aggravated became the issue with the expansion of the city - Haven was too small for such a number of residents. This problem was partially solved by the colonization of the fortress Ruins, but it will take years to actually rebuild them. You also need to organize communication between Haven and its suburbs - those narrow tunnels were no good. It's time to open an old mine for ore mining, build new greenhouses, sow new fields - houses and food for refugees won't appear by themselves. Oh goodbye, dear afternoon nap. 

_“Perhaps if you were actually involved in politics instead of lying on the couch all month, you wouldn't have to rush with so many problems,”_ Asriel chuckled. _"At least half of the mine repair work could've been started a week ago!"_

Honestly, Rei, it's like you were born yesterday. You are a duchess, not some brigadier - you have servants to carry out such orders. Of course, there are not enough of them at such times, so you have to intervene - but this is more of an exception than the rule. Besides, if not for the influx of refugees, you would've nothing to worry about - your subject's lifes are fine as they are. 

_"But they can live better. And you need to take care of their well-being at all times, not just in emergencies. Otherwise, what kind of ruler are you? "_ You growled through your teeth, but said nothing - there was nothing to say. Rei is right and he knew it. He was the crown prince who was taught politics from childhood, not you. He was the one who grew up in the Dreemurr family and watched over the kings, not you. He was the real ruler... not you. 

In response, Rei gently curled warmly around your chest - he didn't want to offend you. No, you're not offended, you completely agree with him. The monsters only bestowed the title on you because you're the strongest of them - but strength doesn't equal wisdom. You weren't very good at ruling and had no idea what responsibility you would've to bear, but there was no turning back. You cannot leave your people. In this you and Asriel agreed. 

There was only one plus in the arrival of many refugees - a lot of new workforce, and you just know what to do with it. Truth be told, boring conversations and formal paperwork gave you a headache, but Asriel helped you figure it out and plan everything properly. In a few months, your little Haven will be bigger - once the mine opens, you'll have enough materials to start building and connect the city to the old Ruins. Well, the surrounding Withered Gardens will be a great place for new gardens, fruit and flowering. Swampy lands in the lowlands will be used for rice and cattail fields, and mushrooms can be grown in dark damp caves. At this rate, the town will no longer be so dependent on illegal trade with the outside kingdom. 

The lord chancellor has agreed to your plan, promising to start organizing it this week. Parting ways with him, you fell out into the street and exhaled with satisfaction. All this officialdom dragged on until late in the evening, and the situation didn't even come close to ending. But that will wait until tomorrow. All you need to think about now is tea and warm bed. 

The familiar scent reached your nostrils, and you took a deep breath, then exhaled. Well, of course. With all this political chatter, another problem completely flew out of your head - the girl. You also need to decide to do something with her. You sniffed, trying to figure out where the smell was coming from. Not so far - somewhere in the thickets of Withered Gardens a little higher on the hill. It's strange that the girl decided to come so close to the town. She's curious — perhaps a little too curious — but careful enough not to cross the line if there was no need to. Apparently, the commotion occurring in the Haven lately didn't go unnoticed by her. And she seemed to notice the gaze directed at her, for the bushes rustled faintly. The girl ran away to the Gardens again. What a clever child. You both don't need to give each other more trouble. 

The day ends imperceptibly, is replaced by a new one, and with it comes new responsibilities and troubles. You mentally put off the problem until later, but Asriel kept pouting in your ear about the girl until he drove you mad. To spite him, you decided to leave her in the Gardens, and you would've left her if Dimhal hadn't caught up with you upon your return from the town hall. Aged manticore, strict and graceful, she anxiously called you, adjusting glasses on her nose. Usually the school headmistress looks much less disheveled than she does now. In an alarmed whisper, looking around, she told you a story. The story of a little disheveled human who found themself in the schoolyard during lunch and tried to steal food from one of the students. 

There was nothing to be surprised at, but you had no strength to be angry. You reassured the manticore, telling her you'd figure it out. After all, sooner or later everything secret will become apparent, and this moment had to come. Getting water from underground sources is not a problem, but food in underground caves weren't obtained as easily. And you're absolutely sure that neither in the Ruins nor among the Gardens the girl will find anything edible. That's why she ventured so close to the Haven. Sooner or later hunger will push her to risk, and panic will rise in the town - and the situation is restless enough.

This cannot be allowed. So, with a heavy sigh, you headed out of town, into the old gardens, to find her trail and end the problem once and for all.

***

Kneeling down, the girl was carefully removing a layer of soil with a thick brush. She tore out the remains of dried grass and dug a shallow but wide hole, where she carefully removed pieces of stone. Why - it was still a mystery for you.

You found your prey deep in the thicket where Gardens were swallowing the crumbling Ruins. The site is ancient - perhaps the oldest in the entire Underground. Once upon a time, it was here the surviving monsters were herded after the war. That passage had collapsed long ago, but there were stones - huge boulders on which Asriel's ancestors wrote their sad history. They managed to overgrow with vines, crack and get bogged down in the ground, but the runes still burned on them. Even some of the low reliefs have survived.

The girl was digging so enthusiastically under one of the menhirs, and you sincerely had no idea what she wanted to find. And why the hell she needs a brush for? Why bother picking the ground with a brush at all? You have been hanging over the girl for ten minutes, not hiding under the spell, but she didn't even turn around, as if there was nothing more interesting in the world than wet mud. You wonder if all of the kids were so weird or is this just a special case?

The girl screamed gleefully and buried her hands in the ground, you bent down to examine. Huffing, she pulled out a dirty... piece of rock? Her find didn't make any impression on you, but the girl plopped it down on the ground and began to rub it with a brush with triple force, removing the rest of the soil. Apparently, you thought too much about it, because you muttered your question out loud:

"And what's so special about it?"

The brush fell from her hand, and the girl jumped with a squeal like Froggit. She turned abruptly, tripped over a newly dug stone and fall flat in a heap of earth. You gave her a wide, fanged grin. Did she really think you didn't know about her forays into the Withered Gardens?

"You don't have to explain. I know what you've been doing all this time." The girl averted her eyes guiltily, her excuses evaporated before they could leave her tongue. “But I have no idea what a fool you must be to get into the schoolyard when it’s full of monsters."

“Sorry,” came a quiet murmur. “I was hungry, but I didn't find anything. I didn't know what to do."

She rose and now shifted nervously from foot to foot like a prisoner awaiting a court decision. You just sighed and wearily scratched your forehead. You should've guessed that. You should've taken care of the girl earlier. Should've listened to Asriel. Who would've thought you'd say that!

“Of course, you didn't find anything. That is why these Gardens are called Withered.” You crossed your arms, trying not to pay attention to Rei's snide laugh in your ears. "Fine, another question. What the fu... I mean, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, this!" She jumped up on her toes and with renewed enthusiasm rushed to explain: "You see, I was excavating! These ancient stones, menhirs, are decorated with low reliefs to illustrate these inscriptions... but here part of the stone broke off, apparently due to natural corrosion. Therefore, by means of mathematical calculations, I found out a piece of relief should be somewhere here," she drew a circle in the air, capturing a dug up piece of land, "and I found it!"

The girl threw her fingers into the soil, intending to pull her find out into the light, but the half-dug stone didn't give in.

"And what are you going to do with it?" You chuckled.

She stopped for a second, thought, but then just shrugged. Obviously, the clever and thoughtful excavation plan didn't go that far.

"I don't know? I guess... well, I'll just leave it here. Just need to move it back."

Bending over her find again, she carefully scraped a layer of earth from it. The weight of the stone didn't stop her - grunting and wheezing, she lifted it and carried it to the broken menhir. You sat down to examine the relief properly. The old and chipped stone was well preserved in a dry, windless cave, the carving on it was smeared with mud, but distinguishable.

"I wish I knew what's written in here. And what do these pictures mean..."

The girl was distracted from the stone and asked something anxiously, but her words didn't reach your ears. Your head was covered with heat, the ears were clogged with cotton wool, and the carving grinned viciously at you.

Oh, but you knew the story. You knew this drawing - it was copied many times in textbooks, depicted on stained glass windows and wall plaques. It was the Angel, the Angel-Who-Saw-The-Surface, who terrified humans and led monsters to greatness. A creature carved in stone, fanged and winged, soared skyward with fire in its claws - a symbol of the soul, torn out and consumed. A godlike monster devouring humans for revenge and justice.

As a child, you were so carried away by this legend, but you couldn't imagine you'd bring it to life... and not in the way the prophets predicted. You became a False Angel and fell from heaven and from the throne, bringing hope only to drown it in an ocean of misery. If the monsters wrote their Bible, you would be their Lucifer.

Asriel rushes about like the lost soul he is, in the prison of your body. But he's powerless, because now you're haunted by other ghosts. They surround you like a wall, like menhirs of memory hidden in the shadows, and deep in their ranks you can hear whispers and laughter.

You are so small among them, sitting in the snow and cringing under their gaze. You cover your naked body, but they still giggle and point to your scars, cuts on your hands, cicatrices on your legs. An army of laughing scarecrows in robes of ragged shadows with croaking voices. They peck, scratch, and giggle, laughter seething in their beaks and pouring out acidic words.

_"Hey bitch, you're not on the list."_

_"You witch, you suck, you bitch, what's your name again?"_

_"You bitch, you lost, you witch!"_

Blood and tears flow from the eye sockets pecked by the ravens, but the scarecrows laugh anyway. Blood and tears freeze on your face. You wanted warmth and love, but got only broken bones and shame. Blood and tears of an abandoned whore, and all you have is humiliation and a bunch of laughing scavengers.

_"Hey bitch, you're not on the list."_

_"You witch, you suck, you bitch, what's your name again?"_

_"You bitch, you lost, you witch!"_

Oh no. Your fight's just started. Blood and soul, reviled and ridiculed, yearn for revenge. The laughter subsides as you take the blade out of your stomach. Blood floods your bruised thighs. A short sweep, and the severed head of the scarecrow falls to the ground. It's still grinning. But now you are the one laughing.

Fuck them all!

Ravens fly up like a feathered cloud, and you cut it with a skillful hand. Small inky bodies fall down, feathers whirl in the air. Scraps of black cloth flutter in the wind. They still cling to you, claw-razors tearing bare skin, words piercing the ears. Over and over, you raise your blade, and the snow around you turns black with blood.

A sharp gust of wind, and the black canvas clings to you and envelops you like a ghost. The sword slips out of your hands. The birds croak gleefully. The sticky tissue burrows into you, whispers in your ears and doesn't let go. The shadows clear up and the scarecrows around you take on human form. Humans. Those are humans standing around you. Humans poke their fingers at you and shower you with insults. The human squeezes you in arms and scratches your neck. Before, you would've been scared, huddled in a corner and cry, begging to leave you alone. But the time of fear has passed - you are overwhelmed with burning, seething black hatred.

_FUCK THEM ALL._

Sulfur seethes in your throat as you breathe out a pungent cloud. The shadows around flare up and sway like burning curtains. The flames quickly spread around, devouring scarecrows, birds and flimsy wooden buildings in the distance. Screams tear the air, the wind carries the bitter smell of gas and ash. Your hands, new, strong, clawed, grab a human and tear it off your neck, throw it away. You squat, jump after - an insignificant piece of meat rolls on the ground and groans, tries to get up. The little skull fits well in the palm of your hand, and you squeeze it so that it would crunch and burst like an overripe fruit. The girl screams.

 _"Chara, stop! Now!"_ You retreat, as if someone thrown a noose around your neck and abruptly pulled it out. With a growl, you freed yourself from the mental harness, but Asriel prevented you from returning to your own body. You two fought in the same head, like the heroes of a movie near the control panel.

 _"What are you doing? Why?!"_ Rei's voice sounded like a desperate echo in your ears. In response, you only pushed him further. You do what you want to do, and the rest of the world can go fuck itself.

...by the way, what where you doing?

Your vision cleared up, drawing before you the soil scattered with claws and withered grass with blood stains. You creeped to the ground like a beast, crushing a small human body with your claws. Her head was clamped by your other hand, unblinking eyes stare at you in horror. A little more, and you would've ripped off her skull.

...but that's not why you came here. You came to resolve the situation peacefully, but at some point you lost yourself. Again. Damn it.

The weakened body seemed to retreat by itself, fell on the grass, claws unclenched. Like a rabbit escaping from a trap, the girl immediately jumped and ran away into the thicket. Wow, the rush of memories devastated you more than the business rush last night. Asriel tries to ask what it all meant, but you shut him up rudely. Some memories are buried deep in your soul, and it'll be better for you if they remain there.

Then he turns his attention to something else. To the blood stains under your feet. Judging by the plowed tracks, you threw the girl with such strenght she rolled a good couple of feet on the ground. Yes, the peace negotiations weren't very successful.

Rei, this time nervously, asks you to follow the trail and find the girl. Well, you'll have to - it'll be bad if some other monster finds her. Or if she dies. Well, you certainly won't be sad, but you don't want to redo all the yesterday's affairs. Fortunately, finding her trail wasn't too difficult.

How funny it is - to have the power to bend reality and time, but to be so vulnerable and fragile. The girl could carve out the entire Underground if she wanted to. She could even kill you - not right away, but sooner or later even you would've submitted to this power. Determination that burned in your soul has greatly weakened in recent years. That human part still remaining in you was gradually merging with the essence of Asriel, dissolving in him. Maybe in the future you'll become a purebred monster. If you haven't already.

The girl knelt down and, pulling on the sleeve of her sweater, put it to her head. Hearing your steps, she abruptly turned around, screamed and ran. Exhaling in irritation, you rushed after and barely had time to reach the little mouse by the scruff before she ducked into the hole. Patience, Chara. Patience. Don't make any sudden movements. You put her on the ground. The girl crawled to the nearest tree, covered her head with her hands. You knew from her trembling shoulders and cracked voice that she was crying.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry, I won't do this again! Please!"

It's strange. Usually the sight of a scared human makes you laugh. That's probably due to Asriel, who's anxiously revolving around your mind and asks to intervene. You have to do it anyway.

"Stop whining, I won't hurt you." That wasn't very soothing. "Let me look at your wound."

She sobbed, but didn't run and let you come closer. The cut hidden under the clump of dirty hair was shallow, but it was bleeding profusely. Obviously, while rolling on the ground, the girl came across a sharp stone. Now she didn't move and silently waited for your actions. You could feel her trembling under your paw pads. This time, you allowed Asriel to intervene. You could argue about everything as much as you like, but one thing you absolutely admitted - he was much better healer than you.

Pulling himself together, he channeled his magic through you, a pulsating stream of living energy slowly taking shape. Luscious green sprouts made their way through the dark, blood-matted hair. Their roots slowly crawled over the skin, covering the edges of the wound. The girl froze in place, not understanding what was happening. She'd be surprised to see a bush of fresh greenery growing right on her head. But the power faded as quickly as it appeared. The sprouts withered, the leaves crumbled and disappeared into the air like sparks. The girl buried her fingers in her hair and cried out in surprise, realizing the wound was gone. She turned to you.

"But how?"

“Magic,” you whispered mysteriously and waved your hand in the air. She wasn't convinced, however, no matter how she scratched her head, she couldn't find a trace of the cut. You watched her with a grin, then said morosely:

“Don't bother me anymore, okay? I can kill you on accident” The girl turned away guiltily. "Why did you even go hugging me at all?"

"But… you were crying,” she said quietly.

Your cheeks flushed. It's good no one saw this under the fur.

“Nonsense,” you chuckled, trying to hide your confusion. "I didn't cry, you just imagined it. I was… dizzy, that's all."

Just think, Chariel Dreemurr, Duchess of the Underworld, the most powerful monster in the world, is crying over a bad memory in her head. If anyone finds out about this, your reputation is over. Asriel could afford to be a crybaby, but not you. Showing weakness in public is a taboo in tense war times. The girl looked at you with obvious doubt, but said nothing. Clever kid, knows how to stay silent when needed. Maybe you can get along with her.

“Okay, enough chatter. I was looking for you not for this," you straightened up to your full height, hanging over the hunched girl. "Come with me."

She nodded and rushed into the thicket for her bag. A minute later, she returned and trotted after you, nervously rubbing her palms. Then she broke down and asked:

"Where are we going?"

"Home."

"Why?"

"Because you fell on my head and cause trouble in my domain, that's why," you growled, irritated by the stream of questions. “So I need to decide what to do with you."

This time the girl fell silent and followed you with her head down. After a while, she began to lag behind, too tired to keep your speed. After muttering a couple of curses between your teeth, you picked her up by the scruff of the neck and carried her with you. She didn't resist - and, apparently, resigned herself, allowing the hand of fate to lead her wherever it wanted. In this case, to the bathroom.

"What's your name, kid?" You finally remembered the question you wanted to voice for a long time. Part of you doubted that this was the right decision - giving a name to something, you become attached to it, and you didn't want to become attached to this awkward lump of moving dirt. However, you cannot always call her just a girl, and Asriel won't let you be so rude. The girl muttered something under her breath, which you, carried away by thoughts, didn't hear and asked again.

“Francine,” she muttered again, as if the word was stuck in her throat. "That's my name."

She turned away and hung in your hand like a dirty, sad kitten. An ordinary name, but you're wondering what could've upset her so. On the other hand, the first thing you did when you fell in the Underground was giving up your name - the only link between you and your past. From that moment on, you've never regretted this decision.

The girl looked around with interest, examining your house while you dragged her into the bathroom. Now little Francine is covered from head to toe with wet soil, dried blood, and Angel-knows-what mud. The mansion may have been a little... cluttered, but damn it, you won't let her run on carpets like this. You put her on the tile and sighed wearily.

"We've here. I hope you can handle this on your own."

She nodded vigorously, dropped her bag and boots, and stared at the solid stone bath with undisguised delight. Yeah, you can understand her joy- it was too big even for you, but for a little human girl it's a whole pool. You turned on the water and began to sort out the bottles on the shelves, simultaneously throwing:

“Leave your rags on the floor, I'll wash them later. I'll find you something else.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed how the girl grew gloomy, how the smile disappeared from her face. She hesitated, but began to slowly, hesitantly pull off her sweater. Then you remembered why.

“Don't ask,” Francine muttered grimly, her head down. Greasy strands hid her face.

Of course, the scars haven't disappeared from her skin, once again reminding you why this girl ended down here. Although the bruises had already turned pale and abrasions had healed, the sight still didn't feel any better. Now, to the old red, white and brown tracks, new ones have been added - thin, still healing stripes on the right hand. The girl desperately tried to hide them and blushed, ashamed, although she shouldn't have been ashamed at all. Now there are traces of your anger on her skin too. Her collarbones protruded sharply forward, and the shirt that was tight for her, now hung like a bag on her emaciated body. Signs of malnutrition, and only you and your indecision are to blame. Asriel was desperate to help, and you didn't resist. So be it, the girl was lucky today. He knelt down in front of her, smiled and said gently:

"Hey. Give me your hands."

The girl was embarrassed and uncertainly stretched out her palms, which were lost in your wide shaggy paws. Once again, you felt a surge of energy and an inner warmth deep inside - not the consuming, merciless fire that usually engulfed you, but the pleasant heat of water in a hot spring. Light dawned within your folded palms, and Asriel opened them. Francine exhaled in surprise. In her hand lay a small green lotus bud, it slowly opened into a beautiful flower. Rei blew lightly on it, and the flower crumbled like a cloud of white petals. Another moment - and they disappeared, leaving only a faint scent behind.

Francine looked at you, then at her hands, and opened her mouth like a fish, but couldn't convey her emotions in words. Asriel disappeared into the depths of your soul again, and you rose to your feet.

"Alright, now go wash yourself. I'm going to get you some towels and clothes."

The girl nodded and then noticed the wounds on her arm were gone. She stared at her forearm in shock and desperately peeled off the bloody crust, as if expecting the cuts to reappear. You and Rei chuckled and walked away, leaving her alone with her questions. The magical show was only a small part of what she had to learn about the Underground.

In the depths of the junkyard you called home, the remains of your old wardrobe were still lying around. The children's room that you and Asriel once shared has long been locked and abandoned, and served only as a reminder of a happy childhood. You haven't come here for... how long? A dozen years, probably. Maybe more, judging by the vast canvas of dust and cobwebs at every corner.

Almost a century has passed since a little bruised and scarred girl jumped off a mountain to end her life, and a lot has changed since then. There were sweaters you knitted still laying in dust, mud-stained shirts, royal robes and simple sleeping gowns in the cracked dresser. Some of them were still covered with white fur. Carefully sorting through your dusty clothes, you pulled out your old sweater. It was torn long ago, the wool was matted in pellets, but you still kept it for some reason. Maybe as a reminder of who you really are. Because deep down in your soul, in that half that still belonged to you, you didn't change at all, as you remained little frightened girl running away from her problems. Crumpling up your sweater, you tucked it away and looked for something less personal and holey. Rei was trying to say something, but he didn't dare. He was probably afraid the rush of memories would drive you mad again.

As soon as you entered the bathroom, the girl immediately emerged from the water and coughed. Maybe she was trying to drown herself.

"May I stay for some more?" She asked, and you threw up your hands.

"Just don't drag it out. Otherwise, you'll be left without dinner."

She nodded, turned and sank back into the bath. You managed to notice several red, swollen scars on her shoulder left over from stab and cut wounds. Then you went into the kitchen without a word. Well, what else could you say? You really are alike. The fur successfully hid them, but underneath it, many scars were hiding, weeping with blood and telling their sad stories.

The girl showed up just as you were pouring hot soup into bowls, obviously attracted by the smell of food. She left her hairbrush and circled excitedly around the table, too hungry to pay attention to little things like wet hair and an oversized gown.

"Hey, come in here. Didn't your mom teach you how to comb your hair?"

“My mom's dead,” the girl replied grimly. Alright. Parents are a sore subject, you got it.

After wiping Francine's wet head thoroughly with a towel, you began to tidy up her hair. It wasn't so simple - knots were firmly embedded in it, the drying strands were folding into curls. Growling in irritation, working with your comb and claws, you carefully dealt with the unruly mane so not to hurt the girl. Sees Angel, she didn't deserve half of the shit she was in. Sometimes you just need to make life easier for each other. When you finished, you tied her hair with a ribbon and rubbed your paws contentedly.

"That's way better. At least you look like a human now."

Stopping close to the mirror, the girl gazed at herself, as if not trusting her reflection. Indeed, washed and well-groomed, in a clean white gown with flowers and gathered hair, she looked very beautiful. Just like those ever-happy kids in Christmas ads. You called her to the table, and, breaking out of the trance, the girl rushed to you, still silent and obedient. It'd be nice if she always stayed that way.

Climbing onto a chair, she eagerly rushed on the plate, almost choking on the flatbread. As if she was afraid the food would be taken away if she eats too slowly. You felt unusually confused, torn apart by the many contradictory feelings this little disheveled human aroused in you. Anger, irritation, confusion, relief, supressed pity - but among them, surprisingly, there was no place for hatred. In the end, you had to come to terms - you cannot just hate a human who didn't give you a single reason for this. Asriel giggled, as if he initially knew how this would all end up, and you were just making the drama over nothing. Fuck off, Asriel.

The girl quickly finished her soup, thanked you and began to chew on the third cattail flatbread.

“I can bring more if you want,” you suggested, distracting her. She srugged and looked away.

"Thanks, but it's fine... I don't want to eat all of your food."

You choked on a sigh and hoarsely laughed - although there was nothing funny about it.

"Kid, I eat more in a day than you can eat in a month. So don't bother yourself with this. You should eat properly."

Francine didn't answer, but she didn't protest when you placed a full plate in front of her. After watching her, you finally delivered your verdict.

"So. You will stay with me for a while. Behave yourself and we'll get along."

"W-wait!" She nearly dropped the spoon. "Really, it's fine! I'm doing pretty well myself..."

“Kid,” you interrupted her. “It's not just you. The town is on its nerves now. Can you imagine what would happen if everyone found out about you?" She shook her head dejectedly. "Imagine a small human town. There was a commotion - refugees from another country arrived, there were a bunch of homeless people, everyone are running around and fussing, not knowing what to do with them. And suddenly, a monster appears. How do you think it'll end?"

"...badly. "

"That's right. So you'll stay in my house for a while, I'll sort things out, the people will calm down. And then I'll show you the Haven, introduce you to the locals. We'll find you a good place."

"W-wait, you mean... you want me to stay here?"

"Are there any other options?" You chuckled. "So finish your meal and wash the dishes. Listen to me and we won't have any problems, okay?" The girl nodded confidently, but you weren't convinced. “And when I say “ listen to me", I mean exactly that, and not “listen to me and do the opposite.”

Blushing, Francine still nodded back. Well. Not a bad start. What do you know about children? A little. Do you know anything about their upbringing? Nothing at all. But you have Asriel and a lot of determination to tackle this problem... as extraordinarily difficult as it could be.


End file.
